Written in the Stars
by RainbowCrystal
Summary: Lily Evans is NOT happy when she finds out who the new Head Boy is. But why is he acting so… mature? Amidst crazy teachers, shooting stars and snowball fights, Lily discovers that sometimes what we want least in life is exactly what we need most.
1. Surprises and Secret Agents

**A note before you begin this perilous journey:**

I started writing WITS when I was 15. I am now 21. (Holy crap, that's actually frightening). Needless to say, the first few installments are somewhat ridiculous. I mean, guys, the teachers ride on the train in the first chapter. Let's all just laugh until we cry, seriously. (You will notice that I have added a couple of lines in an attempt to better explain this failure of logic. Debatable whether or not I have succeeded). Also, be prepared for an absolute hailstorm of clichés. If you think you can handle these unfortunate ailments, then please proceed. I do think you can see a pretty substantial growth in the quality of my writing as the story goes on. Just don't say I didn't warn you.

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**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

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**Chapter One: Surprises and Secret Agents**

"Agent Potter, do you copy? We're at sixteen hundred hours. Hogwarts Express in motion. Operation Rodent Bomb commencing immediately, over."

Under the rusted gas lights of the Hogwarts Express, four boys were sprawled about the benches of a train compartment. Sirius Black, who had just spoken, was holding a purple walkie-talkie against his mouth. When he heard his crackly voice project out of the twin device in his mate's hand, he let out a loud whoop of delight.

The three Gryffindor boys sitting on the benches around him exchanged identical looks of dark exasperation.

Rather than responding in kind, James Potter glanced down at the muggle device. "I still don't understand," he said. "If we're standing right next to each other, then what's the point?"

Sirius was scandalized. He brandished his walkie-talkie in front of James' face, as though he wasn't looking at it properly. "This is a _high-tech_ muggle invention," he said. "They could revolutionize our pranks! Plus, they're amusing," He considered for a moment, "And shiny."

Remus Lupin, who was generally the voice of maturity in the group, glanced up from the book he was reading and regarded Sirius for a moment. "I hate to be a buzzkill, but you do realise that those won't work once we get to Hogwarts, right?"

"WHAT?" Sirius gasped, with so much force that the final occupant of the compartment, Peter Pettigrew, jumped a little in his seat. "Blasphemy! Why are you lying to me, Moony?"

Remus rolled his eyes, though he couldn't stop traces of a smile from gracing his lips. "You _still_ haven't read Hogwarts: A History, I take it?" At Sirius' blank look, he shook his head in defeat. "Muggle inventions don't work on the school grounds; there's too much magic. It interferes with them."

"Ah, bollocks," Sirius said. "I had such big plans…" He trailed off, staring dejectedly out the train window. James, on the other hand, seemed to have perked up considerably at this revelation.

"Bad luck, Padfoot," he offered, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "Anyone up for a round of Gobstones?" He dug into the small bag at his feet and pulled out a battered wooden box that looked several hundred years old.

Sirius wouldn't have it. "Put those away," he ordered, snatching the game right out of James' hands. Something inside the box crashed around as he did so. "We've got a mission to carry out."

"That is an antique, you git," James said, lunging for the Gobstones. "And what on earth are you on about?"

Sirius grinned manically. "Mr. Walkie-Talkie may be doomed to die when we reach school, but that just means we have approximately... three-point-three hours to execute Operation Rodent Bomb."

"I'm sorry, _Mr. Walkie-Talkie?" _Remus enquired, eyeing his friend as though questioning his sanity. "You namedit?"

Sirius waved away his comment impatiently. "Of course. Right, assignments. Agent Potter, you will accompany me to the Slytherin compartment."

"Sirius, I'm really not in the mood right now."

"Agents Lupin and Pettigrew, you'll be standing guard. Are we clear?"

There was an unintelligible and less than enthusiastic response.

Sirius dropped the front. "Okay seriously, what happened to you lot over the summer? You used to be so fun."

Peter shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "It's late; I'm tired."

"I have to finish this chapter before we get to school." Remus did not even glance up from his book."

"And I just ate seven pumpkin pasties," James added.

Sirius gaped at them for a second, apparently finding no response. Then, he gestured wildly with his hands. "Those are the most incredibly stupid excuses I have ever heard!" he said. "Pete, I have no comment, other than it's barely five o'clock. Remus, please, who actually does holiday reading? The teachers only assign it because they have to. And James, you'll have noticed that I've eaten nine-point-five, and I'm still fully functioning. It's the first day of Seventh year. It's our last first day ever! And I'll be damned if we, The Marauders, the eternal pranking brothers, do not start it off with a bang."

A slight silence.

"Inspiring," James deadpanned. "But I suppose you have a point. Does he?" he put to the other two.

Remus thought about it. "I suppose he does. Pete?"

He sighed. "Indeed."

"Brilliant!" Sirius lit up again. "Operation Rodent Bomb recommencing. Duck and cover. Code red."

Again, Remus, James and Peter looked at one another bleakly.

"I will never forgive Professor Davinger for assigning that Muggle Studies assignment over the summer," muttered James.

"Does he even know what he's saying?" Peter asked doubtfully.

"Fire in the hole!" Sirius exclaimed.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Definitely not."

At that moment, there was a loud knock on the compartment door. Sirius stopped speaking into the walkie-talkie at once, looking vaguely annoyed at the interruption. James, meanwhile, rose to his feet and slid the door open to reveal a younger boy who was clutching a letter in his fist.

"This was just delivered this to our compartment by mistake. It's for James Potter."

James frowned slightly and looked down at the envelope. It had nothing written on it that might indicate its contents; it merely featured the Hogwarts crest and the words _James Potter _scrawled neatly in black ink_._

With a shrug of confusion directed at his friends, he tore it open and pulled out a small square of parchment featuring a short, hand-written letter. As his eyes scanned it, he felt his stomach drop.

No… it couldn't be.

"Well? What is it?" Sirius demanded impatiently, obviously keen to return to Operation Rodent Bomb.

James raised his head, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm Head Boy."

* * *

"NOOOOOO!"

Lily Evans let out a wail of horror and dropped the letter she had just opened as though it was made of toxic waste.

"Lily?" Evangeline Hansen abandoned the refreshment trolley and bolted back into the compartment, an expression of terror on her pretty face. "What in Merlin's name—?"

All Lily could do was point at the discarded piece of parchment on the ground with a trembling hand whilst opening and closing her mouth soundlessly.

With a confused frown, Evangeline bent down to retrieve the letter and, very apprehensively, began to read it. As her eyes flicked over the words, however, her confusion only seemed to grow.

Lily was hardly paying attention to her friend. Her mind was much too busy digesting what she had just read.

Head Girl. She was Head Girl.

And Potter was Head Boy.

Obviously, there had been a horrible mistake.

James Potter was not Head Boy material. He was a prankster; a trouble-maker; a pig-headed prat. Lily knew for a fact that he had had more detentions over their six years at Hogwarts than everyone else in their year combined.

Dumbledore had clearly gone mad. Either that or she was having some sort of horrific nightmare…

"Head Girl! Lily, that's fantastic!" Evangeline had glanced up from the letter and was regarding her with an earnest, albeit slightly perplexed, grin. Her smile evaporated the moment she met Lily's steely gaze.

There was a thud as the compartment door slid open again and a small figure burst in, blonde curls flying everywhere. "Eva!" said Isabelle Willetton in a tone of exasperation that did not usually grace her soft-spoken lips, but was altogether too familiar when paired with Evangeline's name, "You left without paying for those pasties. The trolley lady practically had a fit..."

Eva glanced down at the now slightly squashed pumpkin pasties in her hand, and did a double take, as though she couldn't believe they were there. "Ahh, bollocks," she said. "I'll be back."

Isabelle reached out to pull her back by the elbow. "I already paid for them, dummy." She was in the middle of rolling her eyes when she caught sight of Lily. "Oh," was all she could say as the mutinous scowl became apparent. "Er, Lily, are you alright?"

The newly christened Head Girl let out a grunt in response.

Evangeline took it upon herself to answer. "She seems to be distressed about this." She shoved the wrinkled parchment she had been holding into Isabelle's hands.

With a look of apprehension, the blonde witch took the note. She skimmed it in what was probably record time and then looked up, frowning. "Why are you so upset about this?" she asked. "It's… wow, congratulations. You deserve it. Although I wonder why they only just sent the letter…"

Lily couldn't take it anymore. She glared at her two irritatingly oblivious friends and exploded.

"Did you _read _the second paragraph?"

Isabelle, looking slightly startled, hastened to reread the section in question. "Erm… _'It might interest you to know that this year's Head Boy is James Potter, also of Gryffindor_'… Oh." Comprehension dawned on her face.

"Potter. Potter is Head Boy." Lily said this as though trying to convince herself that she wasn't dreaming. She looked incredulously at her friends. "How is that possible?"

"I'll admit, it's a bit of a surprise…"

"Surprise?" Lily cut Evangeline off mid-sentence, a mad gleam in her eyes. "It's bloody ridiculous!"

Isabelle opened her mouth with a placating expression, but Lily was already beyond help.

"Did you see what Dumbledore wrote?" she despaired. "It's all about '_working in cooperation' _and _'setting aside differences'_. I can't! I won't! This is _Potter _we're talking about for God's sake!"

There was a sharp silence, followed by a crinkling noise as Evangeline opened one of her pasties. "You know," she said, and then took a huge bite. "You acshually ha' a poin'." She swallowed. "I mean, what sane person would make a Marauder Head Boy? They're like… immaturity personified."

"Exactly!" Lily shrieked. She slumped back into her seat and crossed her arms. "They're immature. And dumb. And stupid."

Evangeline nodded in agreement, missing the irony for the truth.

"What about Remus, though?" Isabelle reminded them, taking a seat next to Lily. "He's a Marauder and he's alright. I would have thought he'd be Head Boy, actually."

Lily and Evangeline contemplated this statement, unable to come up with a decent retaliation. It was true, Remus Lupin was a decent human being. He was definitely the most tolerable of the bunch.

"Alright, I suppose Remus doesn't exactly qualify as stupid," Evangeline allowed. "But he does have very questionable taste in friends."

"What have I done to deserve this?" moaned Lily, who was obviously still focused on the whole James-Potter-being-Head-Boy thing. "We're not even at school yet and my year's been completely ruined." She sent an accusatory glare at the small barn owl who had delivered the letter, meriting a sharp bite on her finger and sending the offended creature flying out of the train window. "_Agh!"_She clutched at her hand and then began dabbing at blood with the corner of her school robes. "_G__reat_. This is just _great_."

Isabelle and Evangeline looked at one another and came to the silent agreement that letting Lily stew for a few minutes was probably the best course of action. Outside, the sky was beginning to darken, leaving the compartment filled with the eerie blue colour of twilight. The rusty gas lamps in the corridors of the train had been lit; an indication that they would be arriving at Hogwarts soon.

A few minutes passed, and Lily glanced at her friends, feeling slightly guilty for subjecting them to her outburst. Having just reunited after the summer months, it was still a novelty to see their faces again. Evangeline, with her pale skin, dark brown hair and sapphire eyes, was still the beauty that she had always been, though her preventative measures against this characteristic seemed to have increased over the summer. Her usual tight ponytail and lack of grooming complemented her baggy sweatshirt over worn jeans in a tragic sort of fashion.

Isabelle, on the other hand, gave the impression of thorough and precise grooming. She had barely filled out since the end of sixth year, still very much the small, slender-shouldered thing that she'd been three months earlier. Ever the quiet one, she was often overlooked around Lily and Evangeline and their larger-than-life personalities, but it seemed she preferred it that way.

Lily was on the cusp of an apology when the compartment door slid open. Three heads whipped around in curiosity, but there was no one there. The door slid closed.

"What the—?" Evangeline had barely opened her mouth when there was an explosion from further down the train, followed by a series of terrified yelps.

Lily's hand moved instinctively towards the pocket of her jeans. She curled her fingers around the thin beam of wood in the fabric.

Before anyone could think twice about what was happening, a strange, static-filled voice bounced around the compartment.

_"No, Pete! You have to… button… no, hold it down… yeah."_

_"Oh right, I get it! AGENT PADFOOT? MISSION COMPLETE! WHERE ARE YOU?"_

Peter Pettigrew's shrill voice blasted out of nowhere, as though he was shouting in their ears. The sheer volume caused everyone to shriek. Lily leapt out of her seat, smashing her head on the luggage rack.

"Crap!" Wincing in pain, she stumbled forward and smacked into a surprisingly solid patch of air. An odd yelp erupted from somewhere in front of her and the next thing anyone knew, Evangeline had been knocked cleanly off her seat as though by some invisible projectile. She landed sprawled out across the compartment floor with, strangely enough, a human leg lying next to her.

"Idiots." A familiar voice came from where Evangeline was lying, shell-shocked, on the carpet and Sirius Black appeared, ripping off a cloak which looked as though it was made of air, or liquid, or some combination of the two. He was lying right on top of Eva, who now wore a look of utter disgust.

"Get _off_," she said, giving him a hard shove and stumbling to her feet. Strands of hair were coming out of her ponytail.

"My pleasure," muttered Sirius, rising gracefully to his full height.

At that moment, James Potter, unnoticed until now, stepped out of the shadows. Despite his irritated scowl, he managed to appear mildly sheepish.

There was a moment of silence, and then Evangeline voiced the question that was running through everyone's minds.

"...What the _hell _just happened?"

In an uncharacteristically sardonic tone, Lily spoke up. "Just another prank-gone-wrong, I expect," she said, rubbing the back of her head.

"Not exactly _gone wrong_," corrected Sirius. He let out a dark chuckle. "That is, unless the Slytherins have somehow managed to get rid of the hundreds of mice that have filled their compartment…"

James didn't seem to share in the amusement. "Sorry about this," he said with a sigh, addressing the girls. "I thought this compartment was free. We didn't mean to intrude."

Lily's hand fell from her forehead at this very un-James-like statement. She found herself staring up at the speaker, speechless, as though to check that it was actually him.

It was James alright, but it was a different James to the carefree prankster she remembered. His jaw, usually accommodating a crooked smile, was set and clenched, and his generally bright hazel eyes had lost a measure of their childish twinkle. It was impossible to convey just how unsettling this image was.

"Prongs, Padfoot! There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you!"

Lily flinched when the compartment door slid open again. Peter Pettigrew bounded inside, trailed by a distinctly less enthusiastic Remus Lupin. With the troublemaking foursome now complete, the compartment had become rather crowded.

"Did you see Goyle?" Peter asked Sirius with a nervous giggle. "The great lump's going to have a hard time getting those mice out of his robes."

Sirius cackled, and even Remus spared a short laugh. "Apparently, Avery tried to stun them," said the sandy-haired boy. "No wonder they multiplied."

"I imagine Snivellus was crying like a baby," added Sirius, making them all double over in laughter. All save James, that is, who merely cracked a smile.

Evangeline, who had been scowling ever since Sirius had pushed her to the floor and squashed her pumpkin pasty, moved toward the door and yanked it open. "As much as I'm sure we'd all love to hear all of the details," she said, "would you mind moving elsewhere? I don't particularly want to be incarcerated once the Slytherins go crying to the prefects."

"Unlikely," Sirius said. "But thanks for your thoughts, Hansen. Always nice to be reminded that you're a bloody stick in the mud."

Her fists tightened. "And lovely to see that you're still a conceited prick, _Black_."

"Takes one to know one."

Evangeline lost it. "Get the hell out of our compartment!"

"_What _is going on in here?" The voice of authority was painfully familiar to the students. It was also very, very out of place.

"Professor." Sirius gaped upward as though he was seeing some grisly apparition. "What are you doing—"

"—on the train?" McGonagall finished for him, adjusting her spectacles. "That is my business, Mr. Black. And I'll thank you and Miss Hansen to at the very least _try_not to make a spectacle of yourselves before we so much as reach the castle."

Sirius glanced distastefully at Evangeline, who stared at him with pure loathing on her face.

"If you'll please," McGonagall carried on, "I'd like to see Miss Evans and Mr Potter." She nodded toward Lily and James. "Follow me."

The Head Boy and Girl looked at one another for the briefest of instants. And then, as McGonagall turned and strode away, the two of them twitched to life and hurried after her down the hallway. Lily trudged along in a sort of daze, mildly aware that James was somewhere behind her as she replayed the past five minutes or so on a continuous loop in her mind.

Was it just her, or had Potter refrained from backing Sirius up? That was incredibly unlike him. James never kept quiet when there was an opportunity to cause some mayhem—especially when Sirius was involved. It crossed her mind that this new persona might be an act, or some sort of extravagant set-up for a prank.

She glanced back at him quickly, and only felt her confusion grow. The goofy smile that she'd thought to be a permanent fixture on his face was nowhere to be found, and his expression was set and serious.

"Just in here." Professor McGonagall's clipped tone broke her train of thought. She motioned towards a small wooden door at the very front of the train. "In the interest of resolving this situation before he is required at the feast, Professor Dumbledore will be with you shortly."

And with that, she ushered them forward, leaving the awkward pair to await the Headmaster in solitude.


	2. Sorting Mayhem

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J. K. R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and... well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

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**Chapter Two: Sorting Mayhem**

The only sound in the dimly lit compartment where Lily and James stood was the slow, rhythmic force of the train's engine. The carriage swayed gently back and forth, swinging the rusty gas lamps on the ceiling as the darkening landscape rushed past beyond the glass of the window.

In the awkwardness of the silence, Lily found that she was oddly aware of her own breathing. Odder still was the fact that James had not yet spoken so much as a single word to her. The two of them had been standing side by side, stock still, for almost a full five minutes now.

Then, suddenly: "You're bleeding."

Lily nearly jumped out of her skin when James spoke, his voice low and soft. She blinked, gaping upward at him. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Your hand." James gestured toward her wand hand.

Sure enough, the appendage in question was covered in blood that seemed to be trickling out of a deep cut between her index finger and thumb. She was mildly startled at the sight; it hadn't seemed so bad at the time.

"Oh, that. The bird bit me," Lily said faintly. _What's it to you?_ she would have added in some other universe—one where Potter was actually Potter, and not whatever anomaly had replaced him in the current reality. She swiped at the sticky red mess with her sleeve, which only seemed to aggravate the wound. Blood began trickling anew.

Before she could begin dabbing again, a large hand wrapped around her wrist. Lily looked up, astonished, to see James peering down at her in amusement.

"You're just making it worse," he told her. "Here." Before she knew what was happening, he was pulling his wand out of his pocket.

Potter plus wand equalled alarm bells in Lily's head, and so her immediate reflex was to yank her hand away. "It's just a little cut," she reasoned when she noted his surprise. "I'm not about to die."

James shrugged. "Fair enough. It looks painful, is all."

Lily felt completely off of her game, as though she was floating in a void and grasping at strands of conversation that simply did not compute. She had about a million retorts on hand to the lame _let me kiss it better _comments that should have been coming from James' mouth, but not a single intelligent contribution to this unexpectedly civil conversation.

"Come on," James said, apparently not relenting as a tiny grin hitched at his mouth. "I've been practicing my healing charms all summer; it's all been leading up to this. Are you really going to deny me my moment of glory?"

Lily scoffed. "There are no words to accurately convey how little I trust your healing abilities, Potter," she said, and to her horror, it came off sounding almost flirty. The dynamics were completely wrong, like an off-struck chord in the middle of a familiar tune.

Before either of them could say another word, the door creaked open behind them. Professor Dumbledore strolled in, an imposingly tall figure in robes the colour of red wine. "Miss Evans, Mr. Potter! Sorry to have kept you waiting." He examined the modest compartment cheerfully, and then raised his wand between precise, bone-thin fingers. The lanterns grew to an incandescent glow, flooding the space with warm light. Dumbledore smiled. "That's better," he said, taking a seat on one of the velvet-topped benches. "Please, sit down."

Lily and James obeyed, awkwardly settling themselves next to one another on the opposite seat. Albus Dumbledore aboard the Hogwarts Express, with his robes billowing out over the cushioned bench and his reflection in the dewy window, was an incredibly odd sight.

If Dumbledore himself thought so, however, he didn't show it. He was humming, blue eyes scanning the walls of the compartment fondly. "I believe this was the compartment in which I sampled my first sherbet lemon," he said. Lily and James both smiled uncertainly, and the Headmaster's eyes leveled to meet their gazes. "I trust you both had a good summer."

"Yes, thank you," said Lily.

James shifted. "Could've been worse, I suppose."

"Ah, yes. I was very sorry to hear about your... predicament, James. But of course, things have a way of working themselves out. I am glad to hear that everything is alright now."

"Thanks." James nodded.

Lily, meanwhile, was trying to suppress her curiosity regarding this cryptic conversation.

"Now, down to business," Dumbledore said, folding his hands in front of him. "You may be curious as to why you did not receive your letters and badges over the summer."

In actual fact, the thought had barely crossed Lily's mind. She nodded anyway.

"I will not lie to you," Dumbledore continued. "There was some… shall we say _fierce disagreement_ amongst the staff as to whether my selecting the two of you was a grave mistake. After several strongly worded letters from concerned faculty members, I was encouraged to rethink my decision. In the end, my choice stands; you complement one another perfectly."

Lily turned her laughter reflex into a hacking cough. "Sorry," she wheezed.

Dumbledore regarded her with amusement. "Try to understand, Lily. I am well aware that you two have had your differences in the past. I am also, however, confident that you will be able to put these differences behind you this year."

Lily and James glanced at one another quickly, his expression hopeful and hers a defiant scowl.

"See? Off to a good start already." There was a twinkle in Dumbledore's crystalline eyes. "Regardless, you are both responsible, highly capable students, and it is for these reasons that I am putting my trust in you."

Lily felt her cheeks glow for a second before coming to the realization that Dumbledore had just called Potter talented. And responsible.

_What in the world?_

To be fair, he was reasonably intelligent and a decent Quidditch player, but honestly; Potter?_ Talented? _The bloke's only real aptitude was in devising idiotic practical jokes. And the closest James Potter had ever come to responsibility was ensuring that the dungeons were empty before blowing them up.

"…and this year we will also be organizing a Defense against the Dark Arts camp for the seventh years."

Lily snapped back into focus and realized that she had not been listening to a word that the headmaster had been saying. She frantically tried to appear engaged.

"Professor Wolfe and I agreed that it would be a marvelous opportunity for a practical approach to the subject," Dumbledore continued. "You will be spending three days at Celestial Lake in Western Canada. Of course, the lake being a central part of the wizarding community, there will be no need to worry about unwanted muggle attention."

James and Lily nodded simultaneously.

"But anyway, more on that later," said Dumbledore. "I am certain that Professor Wolfe will be more than happy to provide all of the details in class, and I have a sneaking suspicion that we will be arriving shortly. One last thing before I return you to your friends..." He removed two small, golden keys from a velvety pouch. "These," he said, passing them over to Lily and James, "are your keys to the Heads' Room."

Lily's shock must have been all over her face, because Dumbledore chuckled. "No cause for alarm," he assured her. "You will still use your regular dormitories. The Heads' Room is simply a space available to you should you ever need some peace and quiet."

"Oh! Of course!" Lily said, feeling the colour rise in her cheeks. "I figured as much."

Dumbledore smiled. "The room is located on the second floor, beside the painting of Evic the Swift. Use it wisely." He seemed to look at James as he said this. "And finally, I wish you the best of luck. Do either of you have any questions?"

Still oddly mute, Lily and James both shook their heads.

"Very well then," said Dumbledore, rising to his feet. "I suppose we are finished, and just in time, it would seem."

The ghostly silhouette of Hogwarts castle swam in fog outside of the window. Lily felt the familiar chill of excitement sweep over her skin.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a few more bits of business to take care of." Dumbledore slid the compartment door open and nodded in farewell. "I wouldn't want to be late for the feast. I hear they're serving Shepherd's Pie…"

* * *

"Lily! There you are!"

At the sound of Isabelle's voice, Lily turned around. Steam billowed up from the stationary train, thick and grey in the cool night air. Isabelle and Evangeline were waiting by the station gates, their faces illuminated by the lanterns as they waved.

Lily hurried over, shivering even in her thick robes. "Merlin, I swear it gets colder every year," she said.

"How was the meeting?" asked Evangeline as the three of them began to wander toward the carriages.

Lily shrugged. "Alright, I suppose. Dumbledore's proven he's totally insane."

"You needed proof?"

Isabelle appeared to be genuinely curious. "What did he say?"

A wry smile tugged at Lily's lips. "Apparently most of the teachers were against Potter and I being made Heads, but Dumbledore decided to go ahead with it anyway because he thinks we "complement" one another."

Isabelle made a face, while Evangeline snorted loudly. "Yes," she said, "about as well as peanut butter and mayonnaise."

"No," Isabelle said. "Even that's too good. I'd say more like peanut butter and... and... what's something that goes really, really terribly with peanut butter?"

"Cockroaches?" Evangeline suggested.

"Eugh. You _would _come up with that."

"Like peanut butter and cockroaches," Lily mused. "I think that's fairly accurate. But I'm the peanut butter."

"Well, obviously," agreed Evangeline.

They had arrived at the darkened clearing, where throngs of horseless carriages were being boarded by students. Lily scouted out the shortest line and the three of them joined the wait.

"So, how was the rest of the train ride?" she asked her friends.

Isabelle sniggered and gave Evangeline a very pointed look. "It was… interesting."

Evangeline crossed her arms. "Oh, come on. What? He deserved it."

"What happened?" Lily asked, though she had a fair idea of where this was headed.

"Ask this one," Isabelle replied, shaking her head in Evangeline's direction.

The brunette girl sighed. "Well," she said, a sinister expression shifting her features, "the Marauders left their invisibility cloak in our compartment. Idiots. I may have hexed Black when he came barging back in to get it."

Isabelle laughed. "You should've seen him Lily. Covered in warts! He had to go to the hospital wing as soon as we arrived."

"Oh, god." Lily said. "Watch your back now, yeah? I guarantee he'll be out for revenge."

Evangeline's expression turned stony. "Lily, since when does he ever need a reason to pick on me?" she said dully. "I might as well throw a few punches of my own when I get the chance."

They were ushered into a carriage at this moment, just the three of them. No sooner had they sat down when the wheels wobbled to life, jolting them down the cobbled path towards the castle.

* * *

As Lily entered the Great Hall, she felt the familiar rush of homecoming flood her senses. The hearty smell of the feast wafted through from the kitchens and a bubble of excited chatter surrounded her. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was finally _home, _and it pained her to think that this was the last time that she would ever be experiencing this wonderful sensation.

"Looks like Sirius is back from the hospital wing," Isabelle noted quietly as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table.

Lily glanced around to see the Marauder in question stalking through the grand archway, face restored to its devastatingly handsome glory.

"Ah, bollocks," Evangeline said. "I was hoping for at _least _a bit of temporary scarring." Her eyes followed Sirius as he approached the table. He slid onto the bench next to Peter, a short ways down from the girls, and caught Evangeline's gaze as he did so, looking mutinous. Eva, for her part, stared back just as hard.

Lily was certain that something terrible would have happened had Dumbledore not begun talking at that moment.

"To our first year students, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! And to the rest of you, welcome back." The headmaster's voice rang through the great hall, extinguishing the chatter in its wake. "I do have a few important notices to give, but back to those later. For now, let the sorting begin!"

Applause filled the hall as a row of small, stringy-looking first years filed onto the stage. Professor McGonagall strode briskly forward and stood next to an old, wooden stool, unfurling a long scroll of names.

"Aspen, Hailey!" she called out.

An extraordinarily small girl with mousy brown hair stepped forward, shaking visibly with nerves. She sat down on the stool, her thin legs dangling precariously, and set the sorting hat on her head, where it slipped down and covered her eyes. Lily, reminded of her own sorting, smiled. The hat barely hesitated before announcing:

"Ravenclaw!"

The Ravenclaw table erupted into cheers and the girl looked incredibly relieved as she hurried over to join them.

"Barlow, Laurence!"

This one was a large, menacing boy with dark hair and a scowl plastered across his wide jaw.

"Five guesses where he's ending up," Lily heard James say.

Sirius appraised the boy for a moment. "A galleon says Hufflepuff."

James chuckled, then frowned. "Wait, you're not serious?"

"I'm going for the non-stereotypical approach."

"If he ends up in sodding Hufflepuff, I will _eat my tie_."

"Have fun with that."

"Sirius, he is without a doubt the most Slytherin-y Slytherin that ever—"

"Slytherin!" called the Hat.

"...Damn it."

Lily stopped really paying full attention at this point, clapping along politely as the names were read and the students were sorted. That is, until one name in particular caught her attention.

"Hansen, Ethan!"

A thin boy stepped forward , practically bursting with excitement. He had chocolate-coloured hair, a face full of freckles and huge blue eyes. Evangeline's eyes.

"I completely forgot Ethan was starting this year," Lily whispered.

"Yeah, I really hope he gets Gryffindor." Evangeline tapped her fork against her plate anxiously. "He's been going on about it all summer. Says if he's in Slytherin, he'll ask to be resorted. Not that I blame him. Go Ethan!" she added in a loud voice. Her brother grinned widely and gave her a thumbs up as he climbed onto the stool. McGonagall sent a piercing stare her way, to which Eva could only respond with a guilty shrug.

A few seconds later, the hat burst out: "Gryffindor!"

Evangeline cheered loudest of all as her brother made his way to the end of the table, giving her a high-five as he passed.

"Brilliant," Sirius muttered as the cheering died down. "As if one wasn't enough."

Evangeline's smile faded instantly. She rounded on him. "_What_ did you just say?"

To his credit, Sirius had the enough sense to look a bit uncomfortable. "Maybe he's alright," he amended, "but we all know _you _don't belong in Gryffindor."

Evangeline stood up with such force that the wooden bench jerked back a few centimetres on the stone floor.

"You _arsehole_!" she shouted at him. "Take that back."

Sirius stood up too. "No, I don't think I will."

By now the sorting had stopped, the whole hall was silent and all eyes were on Sirius and Evangeline. They, however, were completely oblivious to this.

"I swear, Black! If you _ever_ insult my family again, I'll…"

"You'll what? Cast another first-year hex on me?"

"Ugh! You'll be wishing I had when I'm through with you!"

They both whipped out their wands simultaneously.

"MISS HANSEN! MISTER BLACK!" Both Evangeline and Sirius had been so caught up in their warfare that they had failed to notice Professor McGonagall stomping down to their table in fury. Nobody had never heard the professor yell quite as loudly as she just had; it defied all laws of physics. "What has gotten into you? This behaviour is _completely _unacceptable! Fifty points from Gryffindor!"

The table erupted in yells of discontent: "We'll be in the negatives before the year even starts!" and "Your own house, Minnie! Have a heart!"

Even Evangeline and Sirius stopped glaring at each other to gape at her in dismay.

"But, Professor-" Evangeline began desperately.

"Nothing you say will change my mind." McGonagall cut her off with a terse raise of her hand. "There is _no _excuse—"

"But if this absolute idiot hadn't—"

"Oh so I'm an idiot am I? That's rich coming from a—"

"THAT IS_ ENOUGH!_"

The sheer volume of McGonagall's voice silenced the students at once. Her face was tight with rage. "Miss Evans, Mr. Potter, please escort Miss Hansen and Mister Black to their dormitories at once."

Lily nodded hastily and stood up. When Evangeline failed to follow her, she grabbed her friend by the arm. "Come _on_, Eva!" she hissed, tugging at her sleeve. Evangeline shot Sirius one last look of hatred before reluctantly following Lily out of the Great Hall.

Behind them, James had wrenched Sirius away from the table and was now dragging him along behind, his movements being followed by the eyes of everyone in the hall.

* * *

"That stupid prat! He insults _me_ and then _I_ get thrown out?" Evangeline flopped onto her bed once they had arrived at their dorm, still fuming.

Lily sighed and sat down beside her friend. "Come on, Eva. You sort of encouraged him."

"Yeah, well he started it," Evangeline grumbled. She closed her eyes and sighed. "I just made a complete fool of myself in front of the entire school, didn't I?"

"No, of course you didn't—"

"Lily." Eva rolled her head over to give a deadpan stare.

Lily dropped the optimism. "Well, yes. I suppose you did. Is that what you want me to say?"

"It's only the truth," Evangeline said. "Why do I take his bait? _Every bloody time_. I just hope McGonagall doesn't write to my parents. Mom'll have a fit."

"She won't write to them." This, Lily could say with almost complete certainty. "McGongall never writes, unless it's something really terrible."

"It's true, isn't it? Thank Merlin for that, anyway."

They sat in silence for a moment, both deep in thought.

Finally Evangeline, who was still sprawled out on her back, glanced over. "You know, you should probably get back to the feast. I don't want you to miss it on my account."

Lily looked doubtful. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Of course. Anyway, it's your last beginning of year feast ever. You should be there. I only request that you save me some pie."

"Two or three slices?"

"Seven would be excellent."

"I'll see what I can do."

"You're the best," Evangeline said, smiling faintly. "I'll... I'll see you later then, I guess."

Lily regarded her friend's pathetic form amidst the bedcovers. "See you," she said. "And put on some pyjamas before you fall asleep, hey?"

Eva waved her away with a limp hand and then squashed her face into the comforter. Seconds later, as the door clicked closed, she felt a wave of emotion rush through her as the full magnitude of the situation sunk in. This was the last chance she would ever get to experience the start-of-year feast at Hogwarts, and she was missing out completely.

_This is all his fault! If the prat had just kept his mouth closed..._

Her hands bunched into fists. Sirius Black was something else. People had been known to have near seizures when they found out that he and Evangeline had actually been childhood friends. Even Eva could barely fathom it some days, but the proof was in the photographs and childhood knick knacks and, of course, her parents' constant reminders.

The Hansens and the Blacks were next-door neighbours, and with their being the same age and Evangeline's tomboy-ish tendencies, a friendship between the two eldest children had perhaps been inevitable. Eva and Sirius had grown up at one another's houses, or else running around the neighbourhood together and 'stirring up trouble', as Evangeline's mother liked to put it. They had been more or less inseparable as youngsters, and even through the first few years of Hogwarts. It had been around fifth year when things really started to change. In fact, Evangeline could probably pin it down to a single day.

A single moment, even.

She let her thoughts drift back, the memory still crystal clear.

"_Eva! Get down from there! Do you have a death wish?" Sirius' anxious voice carried up to the treetop where Evangeline was perched, her hair loose and her bright eyes filled with delight._

"_Come on, Sirius! You have to see the view. It's brill!"_

_Sirius rolled his eyes._ "_Believe it or not, the sunset is just as visible from down here."_

"_Sure you're not just too scared to climb up?" _

_Sirius rolled his eyes again, not bothering to reply. _

_Evangeline sighed. "Fine then, be a spoilsport." She climbed down lithely and then jumped, stumbling into Sirius on the landing. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her._

"_You know, one of these days you're _actually _going to get yourself killed," he said with a grin. _

_"Yeah, yeah." Evangeline threw him a sarcastic smile, then turned her eyes to the horizon, where the sun was setting. Oranges and reds were leaking into the surrounding softness of the clouds, painting a vibrant image in the sky. _

_Sirius followed her gaze. _"_I'll admit, that's one hell of a sunset," he commented. He stared at Eva for a moment and then laughed. "Your hair's a mess," he said, reaching out and gently tucking the loose strands behind her ears._

_Evangeline stiffened. There was something… different about the softness of his touch. Something not right. She was suddenly very aware of their close proximity and the way that his hand lingered after he had fixed her hair. _

_She bit back the nagging sensation of doubt when he reached out and trailed a finger lightly down the side of her face. And then his face was drawing nearer to hers everything was moving too quickly and some sort of panic filled her body. Sirius' lips barely brushed her own before she turned her head and pulled away in alarm, mind reeling. For a moment, neither of them said anything, and the awkwardness hung in the air like drops of humidity before a storm. "I…"_

_Sirius' momentary look of hurt disappeared so quickly that Evangeline thought she must have imagined it. He turned around and began to walk away._

"_Sirius? Wait!" Beyond confused, Eva stumbled after him. When he didn't turn around, she ran ahead of him and blacked his path. "Hold up," she insisted, and he finally paused, staring at the ground and actively avoiding her gaze. "I don't… I don't know what to say."_

_Sirius' face could have been made of stone for his lack of expression. He lifted his eyes and regarded her coldly. "I think you pretty much just said it all," he deadpanned._

_A lump formed in Evangeline's throat. "But—"_

"_Never mind; it was stupid. I dunno what I was thinking," he said. "Anyway, besides, I've been meaning to tell you that I probably won't have much time to hang out this year. Lots going on with the Marauders, and you know, them being my best friends and all, I have to put them first."_

_The words hit Evangeline like a ton of bricks. "Wait, what?"_

_Sirius scowled. "You heard me," he said. "Come on, it's time to move on from this dumb childhood friendship, yeah?"_

_Evangeline felt teardrops welling up in her eyes but forced them back. _"_S__o that's it?" she said, bewildered and hurt. "I'm just your dumb childish friend, am I?" _

_Something like regret flickered in Sirius' eyes for a moment. "Just... just go away, please," he said. And with that, he turned, leaving Evangeline to lean her side against the tree trunk and sniff, finally losing her battle against the tears._

Everything had changed after that. It had started off as a sort of avoidance—he stopped coming over, stopped speaking to her at school, didn't reply to any of her letters. Then, a few months later, it was a new approach: insulting her relentlessly and reverting to surnames.

At first, the combination of everything had absolutely destroyed Evangeline. She was already dealing with the aftermath of strange emotions, and a building doubt that would not leave her alone; one that said _I wanted to kiss you back._ But it was beyond over. If Sirius could throw fifteen years of unwavering friendship away in just one day, then bloody hell, so could she. The best way to stop feeling horrible was to return his insults with equal hatred; to build up her walls as high as they could go in order to dull the pain.

And it worked. She was pretty sure she legitimately hated him now.

In fact, all of this nostalgia filled her with nothing more than a burning irritation. Restless and full of a fidgety energy that was undoubtedly going to drive her mental, she growled and began to squirm. The bed creaked and rumbled as she thrashed over, slamming herself onto the other side of her body with a loud 'Hmmph'. When she finally settled, her cheek fell onto a damp patch on the covers.

She reached up, startled, and brushed the tears from her eyes.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed—you guys made my day! I hope you all enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me your opinion. Improvements? Comments? Anything at all? I would be eternally grateful!

-Liz


	3. The Worst Day

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Three: The Worst Day**

The sun had barely risen when Lily woke up the next morning, but she found that she wasn't tired in the slightest (a very, very rare phenomenon—Lily Evans was _not _a morning person). Last night's events were somewhat hazy, and it took a moment of confusion and getting her foot tangled in the curtains of her four-poster for her to remember that she was back at school. She yanked her foot out of the fabric and groped the curtains aside to reveal the darkened dormitory which had become so familiar over the past six years. It looked eerily uninhabited and empty without the usual assortment of posters covering the walls and the spare pieces of clothing and parchment littering the floor. A few thin rays of sunlight had begun to creep through the windows, shedding a faint glow over the walls and carpet.

Taking care not to wake the others, Lily got out of bed and tiptoed quietly towards her trunk, where she selected her robes and a book to keep her company at breakfast. Then, amazed at this new morning-person-Lily miracle, she changed and left through the portrait hole, following her nose through the deserted corridors towards breakfast.

Even the Great Hall was nearly empty.

Instead of the usual rush, Lily found that the room was surprisingly serene. Everything was lit by the sun's golden rays, and the barely-touched platters of food lay invitingly on the long, polished tables. She took a seat and proceeded to spread some jam onto a piece of toast.

For a moment, she actually considered making an effort to wake this early every morning, but the idea was almost immediately abandoned. Nice as this was, Lily didn't think she could ever give up her usual sleep-ins. But she could enjoy it while it lasted.

The toast was almost at her lips when an all-too-familiar voice shattered the peaceful silence.

"Hey, Lily!"

She swung round in her seat to see none other than James Potter bounding towards her, followed reluctantly by Remus Lupin.

"What are _you _doing up so early?" she demanded.

"Oi, this is my normal wake up time," he replied, swinging onto the bench across from her. "Remus and I are the early risers."

Remus offered a small smile as he joined them at the table. Lily, noting the bags under his eyes, wondered if his 'early riser' status had been imposed by James in order to provide company in the mornings. Heaven knew James Potter could not be seen without at least one member of his entourage at all times.

"What do you want, Potter?" Lily asked, not bothering to keep the irritation out of her voice.

"Oh, er, sorry to bother you," James offered, noting her disgruntled expression. He pulled a chocolate chip muffin out of a steaming basket of pastries. "It's just, I spoke to McGonagall and she told me to arrange some sort of meeting with you. You know, to sort out our Head duties. And things."

"Our head duties. And things," Lily repeated in a monotone. "I'm sure those were her exact words, too."

"Yes," James replied, and then, in a McGonagall impression that was disturbingly accurate: "She said to me, '_James Potter, please arrange a meeting with Lily Evans. You need to sort of your head duties. Also, things—you must sort out all of the things.'" _

"Right," Lily said. She took another bite of her toast.

"... So can we make a meeting to discuss the things?"

Lily put a hand to her forehead in exasperation. "Fine. Look, can we talk later? I'm sort of trying to eat breakfast. In peace."

James paused in the middle of buttering his muffin and set his knife down; it clattered against his plate. "Well then," he said. "I'm sorry if my attempt to do the right thing offends you that much."

At this, Lily rolled her eyes. "'The right thing'?" she said. "We both know this is not you, Potter. What is _with _the act? Since when do you care about anything McGonagall says?"

James blinked, leaning back a bit at the sudden escalation of Lily's tone. "Merlin, Lily," he said. "I'm... making an effort, alright?"

"And since when do you call me _Lily_?"

"Can we not do this right now?" James picked up his plate and rose to his feet. "I'm trying to take things seriously. Believe it or not. If you don't want to accept that, fine. But we're going to be stuck together for the rest of the year; we might as well try to make the most of it."

Lily set her elbows uncomfortably on the table, appropriately humbled. "Sorry," she said briskly. "Look, just... name a time and place and I'll be there."

"Five o'clock in the Heads' Room?"

"Fine by me."

James nodded. "Right, see you later." And with that, he and Remus moved on, settling themselves further down the table to continue their meals.

Lily was left with an unpleasant feeling in her gut after this encounter. She chewed her toast viciously even though it was now ice cold and had the consistency of cardboard. Was it guilt that was niggling at her subconscious? She certainly hoped not.

"Morning, Lily."

A soft voice burst her thought bubble. Isabelle was standing behind her, dressed to crisp perfection in her school uniform with her curls more or less tamed into a ponytail.

"Oh, morning," Lily replied. "Plate?" She made to pull one off of the stack beside her, but Isabelle shook her head and did not take a seat.

"We have a bit of a problem," she said.

"That sounds... cryptically terrifying." Lily raised her eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

Isabelle sighed. "It's Eva."

* * *

"I'm not going down there," Evangeline mumbled into her pillow. "You can't make me."

She was in her bed, still wearing pyjamas and tangled in a pile of blankets and sheets that resembled a tragic sort of nest.

"Eva, really," Lily said in exasperation. "No one _cares_ about what happened last night."

"Liar." Evangeline sat up, clutching her pillow to her chest. "Of course they do. I lost Gryffindor fifty bloody points. People aren't going to forget about this one until they're _dead_. Actually, probably not even then. They'll all come back as ghosts specifically to terrorize my elderly, House-Cup-sabotaging arse."

"Don't be ridiculous," Isabelle said. "Anyway, you can't miss your first day of classes."

"But we have transfiguration after lunch," Evangeline despaired. "How am I meant to face McGonagall?"

Lily sighed. "I'm pretty sure it'll be worse if you _don't _show up to her class at all."

"...No, I'm pretty sure it won't."

"Eva, we're not going to let you stay up here all day," Isabelle said. "What kind of friends would that make us?"

Evangeline peered from behind the pillow. "Kind, understanding, very supportive ones?"

"Yeah. No," Lily dismissed her. "Listen, I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but..."

"Oh dear," Isabelle said.

"What?" Evangeline looked mildly concerned.

Lily pulled a chocolate muffin out of her pocket, offering it with raised brows. Eva reached forward enthusiastically, but Lily jerked the still-warm confection out of her reach.

"You only get it once you're ready for class," she said.

Evangeline fell back down into her bed sheet habitat with a groan. "You are the _worst_."

"Oh, I know," Lily agreed. "Now... up?"

But Evangeline would not relent; she crossed her arms stubbornly. "You can't buy me with baked goods."

"Really? I feel like that's debatable."

"Well, _this time _you can't."

At this, Lily sighed massively. She and Isabelle turned to one another in exasperation.

"Then there's only one option left," Isabelle said, her tone full of regret.

"Yes," Lily sighed. She set her shoulders and then spun back around. "Evangeline Hansen!" she yelled. "Get your bum out of bed!"

"No!" Evangeline shouted back, rather childishly. "And I told you, you can't force me!"

Lily and Isabelle shared a knowing look, and then their brows slanted evilly in perfect synchronization.

"Actually yes, we can."

A look of horror spread across Evangeline's face as she realized, too late, what they meant.

"Nooooo!" she yelled as Lily and Isabelle grabbed her arms and wrestled her off of her four poster. Amidst violent struggles, she fell to the floor in a heap of blankets.

"Now," said Lily once Evangeline was standing. "Are you going to get dressed? Or are we going to have to do it for you?"

Evangeline glared at her friends, a crumpled mess of pyjamas and bedhead. "Sometimes, I question our friendship," she said, reaching out to grab her robes from Isabelle's outstretched hands. Then, spinning around, she backtracked quickly to snatch the muffin.

"You'll thank us some day," Lily replied, watching as Eva scuttled toward the bathroom. "Now move along, would you? We've only got five minutes."

* * *

Lily, Isabelle and Evangeline arrived ten minutes late to Potions, to the minor annoyance of Professor Slughorn, who was in the process of introducing a new seating arrangement.

"Evans, you'll be sitting next to Black from now on," he called out, pointing to the empty chair beside Sirius. The Marauder in question patted the seat and made a suggestive face at his new partner, who rolled her eyes and reluctantly took her place.

"Hansen, you're with Bentley," continued Professor Slughorn, ignoring Sirius' antics.

Evangeline looked slightly dismayed at this news. Jacob Bentley was a stringy-haired Hufflepuff who had a habit of talking the ear off of anyone within a ten metre radius. He, conversely, looked absolutely thrilled when Evangeline collapsed into the neighbouring desk.

Now on her own in front of the class, Isabelle tightened her grip around the strap of her bag and tried to suppress her nerves. Being shy was an inconvenience that she often wished was not hers to bear; it made situations like this much more of a hassle than they needed to be. When her eyes fell upon the only free spot in the class, beside a sandy-haired boy who was scribbling onto a bit of parchment, she felt her shoulders tense.

"And Willetton, your partner will be Lupin," confirmed Slughorn.

Remus lifted his head at the sound of his name. He caught Isabelle's eye and offered a small, vaguely tired-looking smile. She attempted to return the gesture as she approached the desk, but her nerves were getting the better of her. It wasn't that Remus Lupin was particularly intimidating as a person—it was that he was rather popular. And not bad looking, either, which only made things doubly bad.

Suddenly, Isabelle found herself desperately wishing to be swapped with Evangeline, if only because Jacob Bentley was the type of person who singlehandedly carried both sides of a conversation, and she was a much better listener than she was talker.

Professor Slughorn scribbled down some notes on "An Elixir to induce Euphoria" (which Isabelle vaguely remembered having brewed the year before) on the board, claiming the revision would be beneficial, and then class began their potion-making.

The silence between Isabelle and Remus as they collected their ingredients was not exactly uncomfortable, but even so, Isabelle searched for something to say that would break the ice. In truly lame fashion, her brain decided on: "So, er, what's your favourite Quidditch team?"

Remus turned to her with a quirked eyebrow as he added a jar of hellebore to his armful of supplies. "I don't really follow Quidditch, to be honest. Are you a fan?"

"Not really," admitted Isabelle, realizing how dumb that made her initial query sound. "I just thought you might, since, you know, you're friends with that lot." She nodded to James and Sirius, feeling her cheeks heat up.

Remus grinned. "I feel as though that may be the reason I'm so opposed to it, actually. They never shut up about it. Slightly disturbing."

Isabelle smiled a little, averting her eyes and collecting some lacewings. It seemed odd, perhaps, that in the six years that they had been in the same house, she had never really gotten to know Remus. He had always seemed friendly enough, but the fact that their best friends were at war with one another on the double hadn't exactly made communication easy.

But as they made their way back to their desks and Remus extracted his textbook with a warm smile, Isabelle decided that maybe potions this year wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

_Potions is the absolute worst. Dear Merlin, who invented this rubbish?_

Such were the thoughts that graced Evangeline's mind as she plunged her knife into a peppermint sprig on the other side of the classroom.

_Don't look up, _she ordered herself. _If you stop catching his eye, maybe he'll stop—_

"Now," said the boy beside her. "You're not doing that _quite _right. Do you mind?"

Suppressing a growl, Evangeline all but flung the whole operation over to his side of the bench top. "Be my guest."

Jacob Bentley smiled self-importantly. "The key," he told her, lining up the fragrant leaves in an orderly row, "is to ensure that the knife bisects the stems on the diagonal."

"Ahh," Evangeline monotoned.

Bentley gave her a chauvinistic wink, and Eva's hand actually twitched as though in a reflex to give him a smack across the face. In the twenty minutes of the lesson which had already passed, her new Potions partner had gone from pathetically boasting about his skills in everything from Quidditch to playing the guitar to shamelessly hitting on her. Now, it seemed he had taken to correcting her every action. It was a miracle that she had so far refrained from socking him in the jaw.

There was a scraping noise as Slughorn rose from his chair at the front of the room. "I must fetch something from my office," he announced. "Please continue sensibly with your work. I do expect to see some _stunning_ results when I return."

Evangeline's worst fears came to fruition as she gaped despairingly at his retreating back. Bentley turned around, as though in slow motion, until he was facing her.

"Thank Merlin," he said, scooting his chair closer to her own with a smirk that Eva did not like the look of one bit. "Now we can have a proper conversation."

"He won't be gone for long," Evangeline replied, praying that this proved true. "I reckon we should just get on with the potion."

"Don't worry about that, I've got it all under control," Bentley said. His lips curved into a smug sort of smile. "So, I've been meaning to ask... how is it that someone as pretty as you doesn't have a boyfriend?"

Evangeline edged her chair away. _How is it that someone as irritating as you hasn't been murdered yet?_ was the only logical response that came to mind. Instead, she coughed and craned her neck toward the bubbling cauldron. "Should we be adding the hellebore now?"

"Modest. I like that." Bentley's grin widened. "And no, wait a few minutes. It has to crystallize first."

"Ah."

"So, holding out for a hero, are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well I assume it's a matter of having not met the right man yet."

Evangeline felt her eyes stretch open as her skin prickled. "Can we... discuss something else?" she said in disbelief. "Please?"

"Your call," Bentley replied, that smirk back in place. "What was that story I was telling you before? Ah! The grindylows. Bet you can't believe I was able to fight them off with my bare hands, eh? If only I'd had my wand. Mind you, that didn't stop me..."

It was mind numbing. Absolutely mind numbing. Evangeline wondered vaguely if she would even _have _a mind left after this ordeal.

"And so there they were; five of them. Just surging toward me all at once..."

"A whole five? Oh my." Somehow, Eva's complete lack of enthusiasm seemed to go unnoticed.

"... I told my sister to get back and reached out to pummel the nearest one with my elbow..."

"Thank goodness for elbows, I always say."

"...And _bam_! Down it went, just like that."

"Marvellous."

Evangeline had caught Lily's eye from across the way, and she proceeded to drag her finger across her throat with a woeful stare. Lily squinted in sympathy for a second before jumping up urgently to stop Sirius from adding something that looked like frothing toothpaste to their cauldron.

"I'm putting in the hellebore, Bentley," Evangeline announced loudly, cutting off whatever part of the rant was currently leaking from his mouth as she leaned forward to pick up the cutting board.

"It's Jacob," was his only response as she scraped the little blossoms into the cauldron with the back of her knife.

Evangeline did not reply. She dropped the board with a thud and leaned back in her seat.

Bentley, unfortunately, did not relent. "So, do you prefer Evangeline or Eva?" he prodded.

"You can stick to Hansen, thanks."

"I think I like Eva better."

"Pity, that one's reserved for my friends." She shouldn't have been so harsh, but she couldn't help it.

And anyway, Bentley did not seem put off in the least. In fact, he seemed to entirely misconstrue her meaning as he replied: "I know I can come off as intimidating, but of _course _you're my friend. I'd be happy to accept you into my circle of acquaintances."

Evangeline barely refrained from laughing out loud. "How... generous," she replied incredulously.

"I try."

"Look, Bentley, let's just make this potion, yeah?"

"Have you ever been to Madam Puddifoot's?" he said, completely ignoring her.

Evangeline snorted. "No," she said emphatically. "And I don't plan on it. Ever."

"Well how about I take you there next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Are you listening to me at all?"

"How about it? I think we'd have a brilliant time."

Eva took a deep breath, shaking her head minutely back and forth as she exhaled. "...No, Bentley. No, thank you."

"There's no need to play coy." Bentley attempted a seductive grin. Evangeline felt like she was going to be sick. "You know you want to."

"_No_," Eva reiterated in a stronger voice. "Thanks, but I'm not interested."

"Aww come on," he said, "you can't be serious."

"I am."

"No, you're not."

Then, out of nowhere: "Bloody hell, mate, she said no."

Evangeline turned around in her chair and nearly fell off of it when she saw who had spoken. Sirius Black stood next to her desk, clutching a jar of lacewings and apparently on his way back from the storage cupboard.

For a long moment, Eva gaped up at this gruesome mirage, trying to figure out if she was hallucinating. Because there was absolutely no way that Sirius Black had just defended her.

Jacob, meanwhile, stood up in an attempt to look intimidating. "Oi," he said. The top of his head barely reached Sirius' chin. "Mind your own business, would you?"

Sirius scoffed. "Everything you say is my business with how sodding loud your voice is," he reasoned. "Bloody obnoxious—it's a miracle anyone's getting any work done."

"Really? I don't hear anyone else complaining."

"Well bully for you."

Something shifted on Bentley's face when Sirius' eyes flickered momentarily to Evangeline. "_Right_," he said, drawing out the word as his expression became self-satisfied. "Look, Black, if you're going to be bitter about it then you should have acted sooner."

Sirius blinked. "What are you on about?"

"I'm just saying, your jealousy is pathetically clear." Bentley folded his arms. "Next time don't let me beat you to the punch, eh?"

As his meaning became apparent, Sirius physically took a few steps back. His face contorted as he choked on his words. "_What_?" he managed to sputter, eyes wide in disbelief. "I'm not… I don't… I wouldn't touch Hansen with a fifty foot pole. You can have her, for all I care, just… just shut up and let us work in peace." And with that, he turned on his heel and marched back to his desk, where Lily sat looking completely stunned.

Evangeline finally felt the shock melt away. In its place, something like disappointment began to seep in.

"Right now that _that's _done," Bentley said. "What do you say?"

A few seconds of silence passed as Evangeline turned to gape at him in complete disbelief. "Are you deaf?" she demanded. "No! I will not bloody go to Hogsmeade with you."

Crystal silence met her outburst. Slughorn had just returned, and he stood in the doorway, clutching a small stack of parchment and wearing an expression of surprise that matched those of most of the students.

"Dear me," he said faintly as he entered the classroom, not without some measure of amusement, "Miss Hansen, I do hope this is not how you respond to every poor soul who plucks up the courage to admit his feelings for you."

As her cheeks blazed, Evangeline seriously contemplated jumping into the cauldron in front of her. She remained silent as her classmates chuckled at her expense and concentrated intently on shredding some daisy roots for the potion. Beside her, it seemed Bentley had at long last been silenced.

Over the next few minutes, Slughorn paced around the classroom, and as he brushed past, Evangeline noted that the bundle of parchment was actually a small pile of envelopes with golden seals. Invitations, she surmised, to one of his coveted Slug Club gatherings. In true Horace Slughorn fashion, he delivered them not-so-subtly to his favourite pupils—Isabelle, Remus, a loud boy named Darren Jones...

As he approached, Evangeline prepared her smile, fully expecting him to hand over one with her name on it. The grin faltered, however, when he swept past and headed for Lily instead. It was the first time she had ever been excluded from Slughorn's inner circle.

"What's the matter? Didn't get an invitation?" Sirius Black's mockingly sympathetic voice carried clearly across to Evangeline, even though he had spoken relatively softly.

"I don't know what you're on about, Black. I didn't see you get one either," she snapped at his stupidity. Then, she made a very obvious point of ignoring him, burying her head in her potions book and sinking down in her chair. It was already quite obvious what her least favourite class was going to be this year. As far as she was concerned, the sooner this lesson was over, the better.

* * *

By the time she stumbled through the portrait hole that evening, all Lily wanted to do was to collapse into an armchair and sleep for a century. Potions had been a test for her patience, to say the least, and the thought of putting up with Sirius as a partner for the rest of the year was rather depressing. It didn't help, either, that Evangeline had been ranting about Jacob Bentley all day; there was only so much supportive mm-hmm-ing one could do before irritation began to replace sympathy. To make matters worse, McGonagall had surprised them with a tough start of term quiz in Transfiguration, Arithmancy had been a complete bore, and there had been, for whatever reason, no dessert after lunch.

All in all, it had been a terrible day.

"It's _over_," Evangeline announced, falling dramatically into a squashy chair. "Thank Merlin."

"Oh, come on," Isabelle said as she deposited her bag and took a seat on the adjacent sofa. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

Evangeline peered up incredulously. "Were you _there_?"

"I'm with Eva," Lily said dully. "That was the worst day I've had in ages."

"And now you get to enjoy a jolly old meeting with Potter," Evangeline said.

Lily groaned and buried her head in a cushion. "I'd completely forgotten. Do I have to go?"

Isabelle shot her a look of pity. "I'd say if you want to keep your position as Head Girl, then yes."

"I really don't know if I can handle this," Lily said, and then sighed. "All the extra duties—and _Potter_—and if classes are going to be this bad on top of everything…" She trailed off, as though suddenly overcome by fatigue. "Right, I guess I should get going."

"Good luck," Evangeline offered grimly.

Lily pushed herself off of the couch, filled with a sudden sense of trepidation, and squared her shoulders. "Yeah. Thanks."

* * *

**A/N: **Again, thanks for all of your reviews! I always get so excited when I see that I have a new one (that sounded really pathetic, didn't it?) But seriously, I just love getting feedback. It really inspires me to write when I see that other people actually enjoy reading my story. Even if you don't like it, tell me why and I'll see what I can do to improve.

-Liz


	4. Highs and Lows

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Highs and Lows**

It was only by some miracle that Lily eventually found herself on the second floor of the castle, facing a large and rather menacing painting. On the canvas, a large, bearded wizard sped back and forth astride an ancient-looking broomstick.

_Right,_ said a voice in her head. _Evic the Swift. _

So where was the Heads' Room? Her eyes wandered across the wall, searching unfocusedly for anything that would signify the existence of such a place. As she did so, she stifled a yawn, blinking the bleariness away from her field of vision. Whether it was a matter of her early morning catching up with her or simply a general drain of energy thanks to the stress of the day, Lily could not be sure, but she was suddenly tired in a way that reached her very bones.

As she blinked, she noticed a flash of mahogany that seemed to appear out of thin air. It was a small, inconspicuous door set into the stone wall. The tarnished silver handle beckoned Lily forward and she reached out, suddenly sure that this was what she was looking for. Unfortunately, it jammed as she leaned down onto it; the door was locked. Disappointment turned very quickly into frustration. Was there a password? She couldn't, for the life of her, remember.

And then it hit her. _Not a password_, she recalled with dismay. _A key._

A key that was in the pocket of a pair of jeans which were lying in a heap on the floor of her dormitory. The thought of walking all the way there and back in her current state of irrational tiredness made actual tears spring to her eyes.

Could nothing go right this year? For goodness' sake, she had only been a school for a little over twenty-four hours and already it seemed things were spinning out of control. It was the last straw; all of the anger and exhaustion which she had been feeling all day suddenly rose to the surface, overwhelming her. She sunk to the ground slowly and rested her head in her hands, seething from frustration. A few seconds later she had, ridiculously enough, begun to cry.

"Er, Lily?"

Lily shot to her feet so quickly that the movement was scarcely visible. With hasty, careless movements, she brushed away her tears using the rough sleeve of her school robes.

_Oh god, please no._

James Potter stood cautiously in front of her, his tall, lean body stretching a good head higher than her own. He looked concerned, his brows knitted behind his glasses.

As her breath continued to come out in small bursts, Lily tried to calm herself. She let her thick hair fall over her face in a last-ditch attempt to hide her tear-slick cheeks.

"Are you crying?" James looked utterly bewildered.

"No," Lily replied uselessly, brushing the traitorous tears off of her face as she spoke.

James continued to stare in disbelief.

"You can stop _gawking, _Potter; I'm fine."

"Right, and Merlin's my grandfather," James said, stepping closer. "What's happened?"

Lily couldn't even muster the strength for the glare she had been trying to shoot in his direction. Instead, she looked away, resisting a sudden urge to just tell him everything. The impulse startled her. After all, he wasn't even her friend; why would she share anything remotely personal?

There were a few as Lily failed to offer a response. James' hand shot up to his hair, but he seemed to realize what he was doing halfway because he quickly dropped it back down by his side, where it swung awkwardly.

"Look," he offered, sounding unsure. "We don't have to do this right now, I mean, if you'd rather reschedule..."

"No." Lily shook her head. "Don't be stupid. It's... just been a long day is all."

James remained obviously unconvinced. "If you say so," he finally said. He hesitated slightly before removing a small golden key from his pocket and moving towards the mahogany entrance.

_Of course,_ Lily thought darkly, _James hasn't forgotten _his_ key. Oh, no. He's much too organized and responsible to do anything like that._

A small click resounded through the corridor. "After you," James said, holding open the door and motioning for her to pass through.

The Heads' Room was nothing like what she had expected. The name conjured images of a strict-looking chamber with sparse amounts of furniture and walls lined with bookshelves, and by all means this was what Lily had been picturing. The space that she and James had just walked into, however, resembled more some sort of cottage. There was a small sitting area with couple of burgundy couches, and to the right a tiny kitchen. A darkened hallway twisted off to the left. All around, the stone walls were covered in paintings, posters, and yellowing awards and certificates. There was a tiny section by the entrance where it seemed the names of every past Head of School had been carved into the stone wall, along with such phrases as 'Tyler and Florence forever' and 'Eat dirt, Slytherin!'.

Lily wandered forward slowly, taking this all in with a mind still clouded by fatigue. James, meanwhile, was already seated on one of the sofas and leafing through some sheets of parchment.

Deciding she should join him, Lily took as seat on the adjacent one, sinking down onto the plump cushions.

It was the comfiest couch her bum had ever encountered.

The velvet seat seemed to reach up and pull her down into its soft, fluffy grip, until she was so settled it was almost impossible to contemplate getting up. Nothing else mattered; suddenly, all Lily wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sleep. Her head leaned against the back of the couch, her legs drawing up of their own accord to nestle into the upholstery. There were intermittent periods of blackness as her eyes continually refused to stay open.

"Lily?"

The measure of amusement in James Potter's voice brought her crashing violently back to reality. Her eyes flew open and she blinked rapidly, startled. "What?"

James pressed his lips together in an attempt to stifle a smile. "I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to have to cancel this meeting. You're not really in any state to… Well, I think you should get to bed."

"No..." Lily moaned, forcing herself to sit upright.

James' expression turned from amused to concerned. "Seriously, are you sure you're alright?"

"No," she said dazedly. "I mean yes. Of course. I'm just… very, very tired."

"I can see that."

"I woke up too early this morning."

"Yeah... I remember."

"I feel like I should stop talking now."

James appeared to be fighting a grin. "I'm ordering you to bed rest," he said. "Do you want a glass of water or something?"

Finally, some aspect of rationality came back to Lily's mind. She stared up at him, sorting out what he had just said. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she wondered.

James frowned. "I'm always nice to you, Lily."

"No you're not. You're usually just an arse." At this point, a quiet voice somewhere in the back of her mind warned her that she would regret having had this conversation tomorrow, but she ignored it. "And quite pig-headed."

"Great to know," James said incredulously.

"I'm just saying you're different this year, is all," Lily amended. She yawned hugely, missing the way James' face hardened at these words.

"Right," the Head Boy said. "Time for bed." He rose to his feet, urging Lily to do the same.

Unfortunately, Lily stood rather too quickly, experiencing a rush of dizziness. James must have noticed her wobble, because his eyebrows shot up in her direction.

"Are you sure you can make it back to the common room alive?"

Lily mustered up as much of a glare as she could. "I'm not an invalid, Potter. I think I'll manage."

"There's the old Lily back."

"Where?" was Lily's vague reply.

James actually laughed at that. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he said. "Maybe we should go for an earlier time."

"Yes."

"Four-thirty?"

"...Yes." Lily paused at the door, suddenly overcome with an urgent need to clarify something. "And Potter," she warned, whipping her head around. "If you dare mention the... _crying _thing to anyone, you'll be sorry."

James smirked. "I thought you weren't crying," he replied. "No worries, though," He crossed his heart dramatically, "I'll take it to the grave."

"Good." Satisfied, Lily began to pull the door closed behind her, but something blocked her from doing so. It took her a few seconds to realize that James had stuck his foot in the doorway. "What are you doing?"

"Aren't you going to say goodnight?" he replied, grinning.

Lily sighed. She had no energy left with which to protest. "Goodnight, James." She tried the door again, but his foot had not budged in the slightest. "Do you _want _me to crush your toes?"

James had a funny, faraway expression on his face. "Sorry, just... You called me James."

Lily couldn't see what was so funny. "Well that _is_ your name, isn't it?" she snapped impatiently.

It only dawned on her after the words had already escaped from her mouth.

_Oh no, stupid Lily. Stupid, stupid Lily. Now you've gone and gotten his hopes up. What were you thinking?_

Clearly, she had not been thinking at all, because never in the six years they had known one another had Lily ever called him by anything other than his surname. She glanced over at him quickly, only to be confronted with that old crooked smile—the one that had been notably absent since the start of term. It transformed him into the old Potter; the familiar one. Lily would never had admitted it in a more conscious state, but it actually made her feel oddly relieved to see it again.

"Well, er, goodnight then," James said after a moment, finally making to withdraw his foot from the threshold. He did so quickly, with a sense of awkwardness, and at last the door fell shut with a satisfying _click_.

* * *

The first thing to greet James when he stepped through the portrait hole was Sirius' overly loud voice.

"PRONGS!" he cried, turning a few heads as he bounded across the common room. "Thank Merlin. I've been waiting for _years_, mate. Where've you been?"

"What's wrong?" James asked, startled.

Sirius' eyes gleamed manically. "Moony and Wormtail," he said, "are being boring. Apparently_ homework_ is more important to them than their best, most admirable friend in the world and his need for a daring escapade."

"Oh god," James said. "Sirius, how many chocolate frogs have you had?"

"Pssh, like none. I mean, I may have had one or two. Or three or four. Alright, it might have been ten or so… Well, I lost count after the second packet."

"Brilliant."

"I know, right? So what do you say, adventure time? I'm thinking Hogsmeade."

"Keep your voice down, you twat," James hissed. "You always seem to forget that chocolate turns you into a bloody banshee."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sirius retorted. Then, like a superhero who fancied himself invincible: "Chocolate has no effect on _me_."

"Right," James muttered, suddenly very aware of the small crowd of interested bystanders their conversation was attracting. "Let's talk upstairs."

Sirius nodded, tapping the side of his nose very obviously. Then, he turned and fled up the staircase, flinging himself around the corner like a spy.

James took a deep breath and followed at a much slower pace, ignoring a pair of fifth years who were batting their eyelashes in his direction and giggling to one another. He found himself almost startled at his own response to the attention; last year, he'd have lapped it all up.

This reflection reminded him of Lily's words from earlier. _"You're different this year". _ He couldn't help but grimace inwardly at the recollection; he hadn't realized that he'd changed so noticeably. Once again, he felt that the events over the holidays had aged him several years, and it was a rather depressing notion.

James' arrival at the dormitory entrance was a very welcome distraction. Strange squeaking noises were exploding beyond the door, and the reason became clear the moment James pushed it open. Sirius was bounding up into the air, propelled by springs of his mattress. He was laughing maniacally, face contorted with glee as he continued to defy gravity.

Remus had turned his head at James' arrival. He was seated at his desk, labouring over a scroll of parchment and looking completely exasperated. His hand was clenched tightly around his quill as he stared stonily through narrowed eyes. Peter, meanwhile, looked as though he had abandoned his homework long ago. He was perched on the edge of his bed, doubled over in laughter as Sirius continued to leap upwards, and looked as though he was having trouble breathing.

"Prongs!" Sirius said between bounces. "You've got... to try this! It's... just like flying... only _better_!"

James could only stare, open-mouthed. He turned towards the much more sensible Remus, who now seemed to have given up on his homework completely. "It would seem he found the hidden chocolate stash."

"How could you tell?" Remus raised a brow sarcastically. "Apparently, Wormtail is easily bribed."

"Damn it," James said. "Next time, remember to remind me that you're the only honourable one, yeah?"

"That's what you say every time."

James rolled his eyes. "Oi, I've been meaning to ask; did you see Lily come back to the common room?"

"Nah, I've been up here since right after you left."

An almighty squeak followed by a loud thud signified that Sirius had abandoned his bed. "I saw her," he said loudly. "She looked dead on her feet, though."

James felt something like relief flood his veins. Lily hadn't seemed herself at their meeting and to tell the truth, he was pretty worried about her. Seeing her cry today had been a shock; she had always seemed so in control of everything. But then… James couldn't help but smile at the memory of her parting words. _She was probably partly unconscious when she said it, _he reminded himself,_ but hey, I can dream…_

"Are you going to Slughorn's thing?" Remus asked out of the blue.

James blinked. "I s'pose so, yeah. There's always good food." He glanced around the room to find Sirius frightening Peter with a stupid zombie impression he supposed was meant to be Lily. "Oi, Padfoot," he called. "Want to be my plus one to Sluggy's party?"

Sirius turned around. "Are you asking me out?"

"If you're going to be a smart-ass, I'll bring Wormtail instead."

"Bad luck, Wormy's got detention that night." He clapped a hand to his chest. "I would consider it my duty and my honor to be your date."

"You've got detention _already_?" James turned towards Peter incredulously. "How did you manage that?"

Peter turned red. "It's a long story."

"And you, Moony?" James addressed Remus now. "You're coming, right?"

"I think so."

"Who're you taking?"

Remus raised a brow. "No one, likely."

"What," Sirius said in a sickeningly sweet tone, "none of the lovely ladies of Hogwarts taken your fancy?"

"No," Remus said, flipping a page of his textbook rather quickly. "Unlike you, I actually possess the ability to keep my hormones in check."

"Really?" Sirius goaded loudly. "Because it seems like somebody's got a big old _crush_."

"I do not!" Remus insisted. "And keep it down; you'll wake the whole house!"

"But yelling is so much fun," replied Sirius, narrowly dodging the textbook that Remus had thrown in his direction.

When Remus rose to retrieve the large tome, he asked James: "Do you think that hangover potion works on sugar highs?"

"Doubt it," James said dully. "I imagine we'll just have to let him sleep it off. As always."

Remus grimaced. "Fantastic. We're in for a long night."

* * *

There was palpable excitement in the air in Defense Against the Dark Arts the next day. Professor Wolfe had shared the news of the upcoming camp, and the room was abuzz with chatter. To Lily's ears, however, her classmates' comments were nothing more than an irritating blur of noise.

She had woken that morning to the painful slap of memories—memories from the previous evening that she would sooner have seen smited into dust and shoved under the rug, never to be thought of again. Unfortunately, they were _all_ she could think about.

"Argh! Lily!" There was a flurry of action as Evangeline slapped Lily's hand away from her face, looking disturbed. "If you chew that nail any further, you're _actually _going to draw blood."

Lily glanced down at the tiny stub of fingernail that remained on her thumb. Sure enough, it looked red and inflamed. "Sorry," she said vaguely.

A few minutes later, there was another aggravated sigh beside her and she realized she had started in on the same nail again. She set her hands down on her desk and smiled apologetically at Evangeline, who was staring at her, steely-eyed. "What is up with you this morning?" the brunette asked.

"It's really nothing," Lily replied.

"Lily, you ate buttered eggs and a single grape for breakfast." Isabelle, too, looked concerned. "And then you missed that easy trick step on the first floor staircase."

Lily folded her arms. "Can we stop bringing that up?"

"You've been acting strange all day," Evangeline said. "Actually, it started last night, didn't it? After..." Her eyes grew wide, and she gasped. "_Potter._"

"_SHHH!_" Lily hissed frantically. She felt sure that James was staring at her from his seat directly behind her own. Her face was definitely burning; she could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks.

"What's he done?" Evangeline demanded.

"Nothing!" Lily replied. "I promise, nothing."

Isabelle's frown deepened. "Then...what...?"

Lily, at a loss, glanced helplessly around the classroom and then ripped a piece of parchment off of the bottom of her page of notes.

_Eavesdropper protection strategy,_she scribbled.

Evangeline snatched the parchment from her desk with an eyebrow quirked. **I thought we agreed to stop passing notes years ago.**

Isabelle, who was reading over her shoulder, snorted and grabbed her quill. _**Only because you and your bad aim chucked that note at Peter Pettigrew's head and had him sent to the hospital wing.**_

**He walked into the path of flight! My aim is perfect.**

_**What was the point of this conversation, again?**_

**Lily's meant to be confessing the source of her angst. Lily...?**

_Actually, come to think of it, I'm quite happy to not share my shame and humiliation._

_**It can't be **__**that **__**bad.**_

_Isa, I have failed at the art of being a rational human being._

**You are such a Lily, honestly. Can it be worse than the time I challenged Hughes to a pasty eating contest and then threw up on his cat? The answer is no. No, it can't.**

_Trust me, it can._

_**Did you walk in on those Ravenclaws snogging again?**_

**Did the house elves send all of your clean knickers to the boys' dorm by mistake?**

_No, and... ew. No. I did something terrible. _

**Are you planning to expand upon that?**

_I called Potter "James"._

"That's _it_?" Evangeline burst out, glancing up from the parchment with huge eyes.

A couple of heads turned, despite the ongoing chatter, and Lily glared. "_To his face_," she added through her teeth. "And please,_ please _keep it down."

"_That _is your big, shameful secret?" Evangeline wrinkled her nose in disappointment. "You called a person... by their name?"

"Not a _person_," Lily corrected. "_Potte_r."

"Who was a human being, last time I checked."

"That's debatable," Lily grumbled.

Isabelle leaned her elbow onto her desk. "In any case, you're wildly overreacting."

The Head Girl was shredding a bit of parchment restlessly between her fingers. "That's not... all it was," she said. At the questioning looks she was receiving, she expanded: "Well, I'm not sure _what_ else it was, precisely—" She stopped, because something caught her eye. It was a flash of black on her desk—the movement of ink on parchment. Only... there was no quill, and no hand. Words were scrawling themselves across the bottom of their page of notes.

"What on earth?" Isabelle had noticed as well. She leaned over to get a closer look.

**Hmm, what's this?** said the messy handwriting. **Passing notes in class? Tut tut.**

By this point, all three girls were glancing around frantically, searching for some explanation. They didn't have to look far. Sirius Black sat smugly in the row behind them, fixing them with a conspicuous smirk.

"Black!" Lily spat. "How did you do that?"

Sirius' smirk grew wider. "Transposable Ink," he answered in a low enough voice that it could not be detected by the teacher. "James' and my invention."

"What are you? A walking advertisement? Please go and find yourself a life," Evangeline snapped.

Sirius' grin faded in an instant. "You know nothing about my life, Hansen."

Isabelle, sensing an argument, cut in. "Sirius, could you please leave us be?"

The dark-haired Marauder scowled and muttered something about not being able to take a joke. Unfortunately, his words did not go unmissed by Evangeline. She scoffed angrily. "I'm sorry, I fail to see how butting into a private conversation qualifies as a joke."

"I never said it was," replied Sirius.

"God, you're a moron. Why is it so impossible for you to mind your own business?"

"It's not _my_ fault you take everything so seriously."

At this point, Lily sighed and turned to face the front of the classroom. Behind her, the two arguing voices continued to rise in volume, and she exchanged an all-too-familiar look of resignation with Isabelle. There was no stopping Evangeline and Sirius one they got started; it was rather like watching a train barrel towards a cliff face at full speed with no functioning brakes.

Indeed, Evangeline and Sirius' voices had grown to such a volume that the entire class was privy to their argument. Professor Wolfe rose from his desk with a scowl on his usually benign and owl-like features.

"Hansen! Black! Detention!" he barked.

That shut them up immediately. Both parties looked absolutely crestfallen.

"But Professor—" they began in unison, stopping abruptly when they realized they had chosen the same words of protest and resigning themselves to identical glares.

"You may meet me in my office at six o'clock on Friday."

"Professor Wolfe," Evangeline tried again, "I've already got something on this Friday—"

Wolfe held up a hand to silence her. "Six o'clock on Friday," he repeated. "And that is final."

After class, Evangeline shoved her books into her bag with such violence that she broke a bottle of ink. As she attempted to salvage the soggy, jet black remains of her transfiguration textbook, she managed to cut her finger on a shard of glass, resulting in a mess of pigment and blood all over the front of her school uniform.

"Having some difficulty?" Sirius inquired as he passed by.

Blood boiling, and with a streak of ink down her left cheek, Evangeline lifted her head. "How would you like a faceful?" she snarled, brandishing a handful of broken glass.

"That's... aggressive," Sirius replied, taking a few steps back. "Even for you."

"Get. Away. From. Me."

"Eva," Isabelle said quietly once Sirius had left the classroom, "you really shouldn't let him get to you."

"Agreed," said Lily. "He's just looking for a reaction."

Evangeline grabbed her bag from the ground and swung it over her shoulder, looking absolutely murderous. "Well, he's got it." She was still seething. "It's a _bit _difficult to ignore him, in case you hadn't noticed. I just don't understand why he won't leave me alone." She was sounding less and less sure of herself. "I mean, he's already made it quite clear that he doesn't want to have anything to do with me, so why is he always... seeking me out?"

Lily reached out a wiped the splotch of ink from her pink-tinged cheek. "Trust me, Eva, we're as confused as you are."

* * *

That evening, after several failed attempts to recruit companions (both Lily and Evangeline had claimed that they had too much on their minds to think about assignments), Isabelle set out for the library alone in hope of finishing off her Potions homework. Once she had secured a table as far away from the vulture-like librarian as possible, she took everything she needed out of her bag and then set about browsing the shelves to pick out a collection of references on _An Elixir to Induce Euphoria_. The result was a fat stack of books that towered beside her on the wooden table as she began to flip mindlessly through the pages, picking out keys bits of information to aid in structuring her essay.

_The elixir instills the drinker with a strong feeling of Euphoria and lasts for as long as twenty-four hours when brewed correctly._

Isabelle smiled wryly, musing that both Lily and Evangeline would likely benefit from a healthy dose of the stuff. Both of her friends were so down at the moment and she didn't know what she could do to help them. People were always going on about how emotionally exhausting seventh year could be, but surely not as early as the second day?

With a sigh, Isabelle returned to her work, scribbling something down about the potion's side effects. She worked in silence for some time, pausing every now and then to measure her parchment. It was just as she was determining that she had only twenty centimetres to go that she was interrupted by a gentle voice.

"Er, sorry, do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

Isabelle looked up from her work and swallowed. She was staring into the face of none other than Remus Lupin. His thin face was swamped by dark circles and his sandy hair a bit unkempt, but somehow, by the golden glow of the lanterns, it only seemed to make him look even more rugged.

It took her a few seconds for Isabelle to realize that she had been staring.

"Of course," she replied, moving her things to make space for him and hoping he wouldn't notice how flustered she was.

Remus smiled. "Thanks," he said, sitting down and setting his pile of books on the table. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I just wanted to finish this essay."

"Oh, no! You're not disturbing me at all!" she assured him quickly. Then, feeling the colour rise in her cheeks, she inquired: "Potions?"

"Yep," Remus confirmed. "You too?" At her affirmative response, he raised one side of his mouth in a questioning expression. "Maybe we could work together?"

Isabelle, who had been noting the length of his eyelashes, took a split second to gather her reply.

"But if you'd prefer to work alone, that's fine," Remus added hastily.

"No, no! I think that's a great idea."

He smiled, almost timidly. "Well, I was just comparing the effects of chopping versus shredding the daisy root…"

As it turned out, they worked incredibly well together. Companionable silence hung over their table for the most part, with the scratching of quills and the flipping of pages offering subtle interludes. Every now and again, one of them would pause to inquire about some aspect of the assignment, and the other would point them in the direction of the relevant resource. It was not without awkwardness, given their similarly introverted natures, but on the whole Isabelle thought the whole thing went rather well. Remus was so genuinely kind that she was beginning to feel much more at ease around him already.

The librarian had begun to extinguish the lamps by the time they finally put their books away.

"Are you heading back to the common room?" Isabelle asked

Remus shook his head. "James and Sirius made me promise to watch their first Quidditch practice of the season," he said, looking less than enthusiastic. "Something about moral support."

"Ah," Isabelle smiled. "Well, have fun then. And thanks, by the way, for all your help."

"Not a problem," replied Remus. "Same to you. I wouldn't have finished that half so quickly on my own."

Isabelle felt her grin becoming stupidly big, but she couldn't help it. "No worries."

"Right, I'm off," Remus said, pulling the strap of his bag over his head so that it crossed his torso. "Wouldn't want to be late for practice. Honestly, you'd think Pete and I were on the team with how they treat us."

Isabelle giggled at that. "Bye then," she said. "Good luck."

"Thanks. See you later."

And as he walked away, Isabelle found herself staring at his retreating figure with a funny fluttery feeling in her heart.

Like someone who had a bit of a crush.

* * *

**A/N:** I am so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up! I was away on holiday with no computer access so I had to wait until I got back to post it. I expect the next chapter should be up quicker.

Thanks for the reviews! Keep 'em coming. :)

-Liz


	5. Confessions

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Confessions**

On the night of Slughorn's start of term party, the seventh year Gyffindor girls' dorm was hit by a storm of complete pandemonium. Discarded articles of clothing adorned the furniture and littered the carpet while the six inhabitants of the space ran about frantically, applying makeup, borrowing each others' things and intermittently colliding in their haste.

"Has _anyone_ seen my black skirt?" Skye Linley, a blonde specimen with legs that seemed endless, appeared on her hands and knees, apparently on a search mission that involved the underside of all the beds in the room.

"Sorry," said Anna Taylor, her best friend, offering a shrug. She spun in a circle, smoothing down the creases in a ruffly beige camisole. "What do you think of this top?"

"It's nice," Skyke replied distractedly. She rose to her feet and put her hands onto her hips. "Ugh, I really don't understand where it could be! I swear I packed it, and I definitely haven't worn it since we arrived."

"_Skye!_" Evangeline's voice, oddly thick, rang from the bathroom. "_I'sh in'here_!" She stuck her head through the door, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth as she brandished a ball of black fabric.

"Yes!" Skye clapped her hands together happily. "You're amazing, thank you." She caught the garment after Eva flung it through the air.

Lily, meanwhile, was stationed squarely in the middle of the chaos, eyeing her reflection critically in the glass of their ancient, full-length mirror. After uncountable outfit changes, she had finally settled on a short, embroidered jean skirt and a forest green off-the-shoulder sweater which Isabelle had told her complemented her eyes.

Following some careful deliberation, she pulled her hair elastic out, letting her red hair fall in thick waves around her shoulders and down her back. _Hmm_... She turned to the side, examining the effect in profile. _More or less passable. _

"Leave it down," Anna advised. She had appeared by Lily's side and was vying for a spot by the mirror to examine her new outfit choice. "It suits you."

"Oh, thanks," Lily said, stepping aside to allow her through. As she stood back, she couldn't help but eye up her own figure again with some cynicism. It was unlike her to put such effort and thought into her appearance, and she was trying very hard not to overanalyze the good half hour she had just spent selecting an ensemble and applying make-up. Unfortunately, it was impossible to silence the voice in her head that asked repeatedly and shrewdly: _Just who are you trying to impress?_

Lily jumped when a snippet of nearby conversation caught her ears.

"Poor James," Skye was saying, her big blue eyes full of sadness. "How awful."

Anna plunked herself down on her bed as she repeatedly attempted to jab a hoop through her earlobe. "I reckon," she agreed, straightening up. "It's no wonder he's been a bit... off."

Heart suddenly pounding in her chest, Lily turned subtly in their direction.

"Potter?" Evangeline inquired, emerging from the bathroom and flopping over to join Anna on her four poster.

"Did you hear?" Skye asked her. "His father was attacked by a dragon in Romania over the summer. Happened while they were on holiday."

Anna nodded morosely. "James saw the whole thing, too."

From her awkward eavesdropper post, Lily felt an odd rush of sympathy for the bloke. "Merlin," she breathed.

Skye, Anna and Evangeline turned their heads at her quiet exclamation.

"Sorry," Lily said, feeling flustered. "It's only, wow. That's terrible. Is he alright?"

"He's fine. Good as new, or so I hear, thanks to St. Mungo's," said Skye.

Lily nodded, realizing only after she had received the response that she had actually been asking about James.

"I think James took the whole thing pretty badly, though," Skye continued, as though reading her mind. "He and his dad are really close."

So _that _was why Potter had been so uncharacteristically solemn since the summer. Lily still felt strangely numb as she mulled over the whole thing for a few minutes. Suddenly, she wasn't sure how to feel, or what to think.

"In other news," Evangeline was saying. "Slughorn's new _policy_," she framed the word in sarcastic quotations, "is absolute rubbish."

News had spread around the castle a few days earlier about the Potions Master's decision to restrict the Slug Club to students with no family history of dark magic. The verdict was odd and out of the blue, and had left several long-term members of his inner circle high and dry—Evangeline included. She made no secret of her displeasure.

"It is a bit harsh, isn't it?" Anna allowed. "I see where he's coming from, but—"

"It's more than a bit harsh," Evangeline retorted. "He's punishing us for something we have no control over. Last time I checked, evil wasn't a contagious disease.

"I gather you're one of the cast-offs," Skye said.

Evangeline grunted. "Uncle," she explained. "Spineless idiot, basically. Don't worry, he's been thoroughly exiled from the family. Not that that makes a difference in Slughorn's eyes."

"At least you're still allowed to come as a plus one though, right?" Alice Perry, a bubbly brunette and the final member of their dorm, had emerged from the bathroom and joined the little gathering.

"I s'pose," Eva said dully.

Skye, meanwhile, frowned. "It does seem a bit odd, doesn't it? The whole bring a mate thing? He's going to have the whole school there if he's not careful."

"Actually," Anna rose to her feet, "we should probably get going, yeah?"

Lily looked around the room, taking an inventory of her dormmates. "Where's Isa?"

Alice had a strange expression on her face as she replied, "She's in the bathroom."

"Still?" Evangeline rolled off of the bed and approached their communal shower area, Lily not too far behind her.

"Isa?" Lily called. "Are you ready?"

There was no response, save for a muffled growling noise. Evangeline pushed the door open.

What lay before them was a scene of utter chaos. Isabelle was ankle-deep in a sea of clothing that flooded all the way across the stone floor. Bent at the waist, she scrabbled through the piles with aggravated motions and muttered to herself as each article of clothing was discarded.

"Er..." Lily trailed off meekly. "What are you doing?"

When Isabelle straightened, her face was a dangerous cesspool of frustration and rage. "I don't have anything to wear!" she cried. As though to reinforce her point, she threw a pair of jeans across the room. They landed in the sink.

"Looks like you have plenty." Evangeline's eyes were bugging out of her head as she examined the sprawling mountain range of clothing.

"Well, I don't have anything nice."

Eva just looked confused. "It's not exactly the Governor's Ball," she said. "Just pick anything. Like, I dunno... this." She extracted a pink halter dress from the heap.

Isabelle's glare made her drop the garment so quickly it might as well have been an angry fire crab in disguise. "Just because you'd look good in a _paper bag_," Isabelle growled, "doesn't mean all of us are so lucky."

"What are you on about?" Evangeline said, glancing down at her dull jeans and plain white vest top in confusion.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Isa, you're lovely," she said. "Stop being so melodramatic."

The blonde grunted in disagreement, but otherwise did not respond. As Evangeline continued to make fashion suggestions (all of which were cruelly rejected), Lily took a moment to study Isabelle a little more closely. Her ringlets were flattened, leaving her hair to fall neatly in straight sheets of gold around her shoulders. Hints of makeup surrounded the edges of her turquoise eyes, her lips were pink, and a light dusting of blush was visible on the apples of her cheeks.

Well, one thing was for sure: Lily wasn't the only one trying to impress someone tonight.

* * *

Half an hour later, after finally unearthing an outfit that did not unleash violent fits of rage in Isabelle and coaxing her to put it on, Lily and Evangeline closed the bathroom door and slumped against it in exhaustion. As expected, the rest of their dormmates were long gone.

"What," Evangeline breathed, "was _that_?"

Lily turned to her with a grim expression. "If we don't talk about it, maybe it will never happen again."

When rustling noises behind them suggested that Isabelle was getting changed as promised, they moved forward and settled onto the edge of Evangeline's bed to await her emergence. It didn't take too long. The door swung open about a minute later and Isabelle stepped out, dressed in a white skirt and a lacy lavender top with thin straps that clung loosely to her small frame. The pale colours suited her complexion perfectly, and in the dim light of the dormitory, she almost seemed to be enshrouded in a sort of glow.

Lily and Evangeline gaped stupidly, unable to speak.

Misinterpreting her friends' silence, Isabelle pulled at the skirt. "It's horrendous, isn't it? I knew the colour was wrong. You know what? Just go without me. Please."

"No!" Lily half-shouted while Evangeline babbled senselessly to the contrary.

Isabelle started slightly at their hysterical response.

"You look... crazy good," Lily amended, while Evangeline nodded dumbly in agreement.

"Oh. Alright, then," Isabelle said, blushing. "Erm, should we go?"

Lily didn't need to be told twice. She made a beeline for the door, turning around only to stare questioningly at Evangeline. "Are you not coming?"

The brunette wrinkled her nose. "Detention, remember?"

"Yes, but it's at six, isn't it?"

Evangeline pouted and grudgingly moved towards the exit. "Maybe if I don't show up, he'll forget."

"Look at it this way," Lily suggested as the three of them hurried out onto the upper landing and headed for the stairs. "The sooner you go, the sooner it will be over, and the sooner you can join us at Slughorn's."

"Yeah." Evangeline snorted. "That is if I don't catch whatever disgusting plague Black is infected with and die before the end of the hour."

"Think _positive_," was Lily's exasperated response.

They parted ways outside of the portrait hole. Evangeline waved her friends off with a dismal raise of her hand. When her arm dropped back down by her side, she heaved a great sigh and then made for Professor Wolfe's office, dragging her feet along the cold stone floor.

She arrived much too quickly. Feeling rather as though she was on her way to the gallows, she knocked on the heavy door and waited.

"So nice of your to finally join us," Wolfe said as he admitted her to the shabbily decorated room. There was a plain wooden desk, a set of bookshelves, and a couple of rickety chairs, one of which was occupied. Sirius spun around, and for a second they locked eyes.

"Is there any particular reason you've both decided to forgo our school uniform tonight?" Wolfe continued.

Sirius, who was clad in jeans and a black t-shirt, shrugged. "Slug Club meeting later on," he explained.

Evangeline's face fell. "Who invited _you_?"

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Given," Wolfe interrupted loudly, "the school's requirements for proper decorum, I will be forced to take five points apiece."

"Bully for you," Sirius enthused.

Wolfe exhaled. "Don't push me, Black."

There was a hard, abrupt knock on the doorframe. Argus Filch, the new caretaker, limped inside, looking rather as though Christmas had come early. His usual frown had been replaced by an eager, crooked-toothed grin.

"Are these the miscreants?" he asked. His left eye was twitching disconcertingly.

Wolfe gave a curt nod.

"What did you, ah, have in mind for punishment?" There was no mistaking the croak of anticipation in the his voice.

"The usual, Argus."

Filch's face fell. "Have you considered the… options I suggested?"

"The list Wilkes delivered? I thought it was a joke." Wolfe blinked behind his spectacles.

The caretaker certainly took offence to that. "Students who break the rules deserve the worst, if you don't mind my saying."

"Yes, well..." Wolfe looked uncomfortable. "Just the trophy room tonight, if you don't mind."

Grumbling, Filch dropped the rusty old metal device that he had been holding into his pocket. It looked suspiciously like torture equipment.

"Alright, alright, you two, follow me," he snapped, waving at Eva and Sirius.

They trailed along behind at a slow pace; it did not take much to keep up with his limping gait.

"Ridiculous," Filch was muttering to himself. "They've gone soft, the lot of them."

Evangeline chanced a sideways look, only to find that Sirius had been looking at her. He glanced away, sticking his hands in his jeans pockets.

"What?" Eva hissed.

Sirius turned his head, and his eyes were dark. He looked stupidly handsome under the dim torchlight. "Nothing."

Not a moment later, they came upon the trophy room. Filch led the way through the sloping arch of an entry and set his lantern down on the nearest cabinet. Scratched glass met wood with a dull clang.

"You'll be cleaning the Muggle way, of course," he said, gesturing towards a bucket of grimy water and two sponges. Then, he clapped his hands together and grinned, expelling waves of malevolent glee through his deep-set eyes. "I'll, ah, leave you to it then." And with that, the scraggly caretaker stepped back into the shadows and took a seat, looking as though he was settling down to watch the finale of the Quidditch World Cup.

Cringing, Evangeline picked up one of the mouldy sponges and approached the bucket of grey sludge. When Sirius moved past her a few seconds later, dribbling water from his sponge onto the top of her thigh, she jumped back and stared at him in open-mouthed horror.

Then, heading for the nearest display case, she wondered what exactly Filch's beloved 'old style detentions' actually entailed, because anything—_anything—_would be a step up from this nightmare.

* * *

"Lily, my dear! There you are!"

Slughorn accosted Lily the moment she and Isabelle slipped through the door. He was lumbering across the room, red-faced and shining under the dim lights.

"Hello, Professor," Lily replied politely.

Slughorn stopped and squinted his eyes in Isabelle's direction, looking puzzled. "Miss Willetton!" he said at last. "Didn't recognize you there—new haircut?"

"Er…" Isabelle began, reddening. Slughorn, however, didn't seem to be looking for an answer.

"What do you think?" he said, gesturing around the room proudly.

Lily's eyes widened as she took in her surroundings for the first time. The second-floor classroom had been transformed into a beautiful, spacious dance floor. In the darkened space, small spheres of light hung here and there, floating in the air and dotting the walls with hues in every colour of the rainbow, from sunshine yellow and cobalt to glistening jade and soft fuchsia. Long refreshment tables lined the walls, and students were crowded around these stations, sampling the extravagant delicacies for which Slughorn had become renowned. Swanky instrumental music lilted and flowed over the chatter.

"You've definitely outdone yourself," Lily said in awe.

Slughorn waved her comment away brusquely. "It's nothing, it's nothing," he mumbled, hardly concealing his pride. "Now Lily, I have a favour to ask you—Oh! James, there you are!"

James, who had been walking by with a cup of punch, lifted a hand in greeting. He looked rather more put together than usual in his jeans and sweater, and Lily felt something odd clench in her stomach when he glanced her way. There was no mistaking the way his eyes travelled down her body.

"How are you, my boy?" Slughorn asked, motioning for him to join them.

James made his way over. "Fantastic," he said. "And I've got to say—this is great. Definitely starting the year off with a bang."

"I hope so, I hope so," replied Slughorn. "Speaking of starting things off with a bang, I have a request." He turned to Lily. "For both of you."

Suddenly, Lily did not like where this conversation was headed.

"I'm about to open the dance floor, and I'd like my Head Boy and Girl to kick things off. Would you mind terribly?"

Lily felt her stomach drop. She was all set to politely decline when James opened his stupid fat mouth and said, "Sure thing."

Slughorn beamed. "Brilliant. I'll make the announcement."

Before Lily had two seconds to fabricate an escape plan, he was already tapping his throat with his wand.

"Attention!" Slughorn's booming voice filled the room. The chatter dissipated at once. "I would like everyone to please give a warm welcome to your new Head Boy and Girl! Lily and James have agreed to share the first dance of the evening. Please do join them; the dance floor isn't sitting around _only_ to look pretty."

_Agreed? _Lily was thinking frantically. _Who agreed?_

The music had already started. It was a slow, jazzy tune, and she was frozen, a statue amongst the sea of expectant faces surrounding her.

James, slightly red-cheeked, extended his hand. At this moment, he looked more or less as uncomfortable as she felt.

"_Idiot_," Lily hissed as she slid her fingers through his and allowed him to pull her closer. "Why the bloody hell would you agree to this?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "It's a dance, Lily. We're not being sacrificed into a pit of fire."

"Fire would be preferable. How do you even dance to this music?"

James shrugged his shoulders very subtly. "Dunno, but I reckon we should move. Everyone's staring at us."

"You're the bloke. Lead away."

For one intense moment, their eyes locked. Lily's gaze slid from his hazel irises to his long eyelashes, his straight nose, and inside, her feelings were suddenly in a state of confusion and turmoil. She could only think about what Skye and Anna had told her earlier, and in combination with memories of their awkward Heads' Room encounter, it was simply too much for her brain to rationally make sense of.

Luckily, she was spared the mental combustion when James heeded her advice and other his hand found her waist. He set it there lightly—questioningly—as though unsure of what Lily's reaction might be. In the end, she surrendered, attempting to ignore the tingling sensation where his hand met the thin fabric over her hipbone.

Their dancing skills were stilted and awkward at best. Neither of them seemed to be at ease with the complicated jazz rhythm and they were markedly off beat. Luckily, no one really seemed to care. Or, well, Lily supposed they didn't, as she couldn't exactly see anyone clearly against the bright glare of the lighting overhead. Rather than continue to squint into the silhouetted audience, she redirected her gaze to James' shoulder, which was more or less at eye level. His muscles were tensed under his thin sweater, and Lily became annoyingly aware of the heat radiating from his chest in their close proximity. A chill zipped up her spine.

This was not good.

* * *

Isabelle chewed at one of her fingernails anxiously, and then stopped to smooth down her straightened hair for the hundredth time. Unsurprisingly, it was still lying as perfectly flat as it had been two minutes ago.

Her worst nightmare was rapidly becoming a reality. Lily had disappeared after having been whisked away to dance with James, and Evangeline still had yet to arrive, leaving her friendless and alone in a social situation. She had contemplated joining Anna and Skye several times out of desperation, but the two were jumping around on the dance floor and she couldn't think of a way to approach them that wouldn't be completely awkward.

When another boy's eyes lingered on her as he passed, she shrunk back into the shadows, biting back the swell of discomfort in her stomach. A little bit of makeup and a taming of The Curls had seemed a good idea at some point, for reasons now completely unknown. Isabelle Willetton was not used to attention, and she had already decided that she hated it. It made her feel exposed and anxious. She turned to the foggy window beside her and raised a hand to the cool glass; the refreshing zing was welcome against her warm skin.

Her reflection was a stranger, especially in the half-light; too mature, too dressed-up, too stiff and uncomfortable. Not to mention all for nothing, considering Remus didn't even seem to be present. Isabelle's stomach clenched at the thought of him, and suddenly she was imagining him behind her, his handsome face approaching in the dark reflection.

Hang on, that was one clear hallucination.

"Isabelle?"

"Remus!" Her reaction was embarrassingly intense as she spun around to find herself face-to-face with the real deal. He looked a thousand times better than the last time she had seen him, with the dark circles almost completely faded and his smile lighting up his honey-coloured eyes. "Er, hi. How are you?"

Thankfully, he seemed almost as flustered as she as he took in her appearance. "I'm glad it's you," he said finally. "I mean, I wasn't sure—the hair... it's just..." He laughed. "It looks nice, I think is what I'm trying to say."

Isabelle's heart sang a heavenly chorus. "Thanks," she said faintly.

Remus gave a small smile and then cleared his throat. "Where are Lily and Evangeline?" he asked, looking around the classroom as though hoping to spot them.

"They've more or less abandoned me," Isabelle replied. When Remus' eyebrows shot up, she clarified, "No, not really. Eva's in detention and Lily is... well, I'm not entirely sure, actually."

"Right, I forgot. With Sirius," Remus recalled. "And I guess that makes two of us. I can't find James anywhere either."

Isabelle glanced around the room this time. "What about Peter?"

"Detention," was Remus' grim reply. "Accidentally released a whole flock of hippogriffs in Care of Magical Creatures."

Isabelle giggled, more out of pity than anything, and as her laughter faded, the two were left standing in silence for a moment.

Remus shifted uncertainly. "Er… do you want to go sit down or something?"

"Right, sure."

Heart beating erratically, Isabelle followed him through the thick of the crowd until they came upon an empty table. It was circular and right in a corner, out of the way of the mayhem of the party.

"Here okay?" Remus checked.

"Sure."

Remus paused before he sat. "I'm going to grab a drink. Would you like one?"

"Sure." Oh, god. Her vocabulary was disturbingly non-extensive tonight. "I mean yes, okay, sounds good." _Quit while you're ahead, smart one_.

While Remus ducked over to the refreshment table, Isabelle watched the party unfolding all around her. Things were getting markedly more disorderly as the night wore on. On the dance floor, a group of students seemed to have persuaded a very red-faced Professor Slughorn into dancing the Macarena. For a second, Isabelle could have sworn she saw Lily and James hurrying through the crowd, but when she tried to get a better look, they had disappeared.

"Butterbeer alright?" Remus set a pair of bottles down in the centre of their table.

"Of course. Thanks." Isabelle smiled, reaching out to open hers. The warm, smooth feeling of the liquid on her throat brought back a slew of memories. "I haven't had this in ages," she said. "Last time was at my cousin's wedding, I think. And I'm pretty sure it was spiked, because the entire bridal party was sloshed after a few rounds of I Never."

Remus smiled, crinkling his brow adorably. "What's I Never?"

Isabelle was just about to open her mouth and explain it when two long-lost faces showed up beside their table.

"Lily!" cried Isabelle, just as Remus said "Prongs!".

The head boy and girl looked equal parts exasperated and awkward. They stood next to one in near identical cross-armed stances, avoiding eye contact.

"Pull up a chair, mate," Remus suggested, twisting around to grab the back of a nearby seat and dragging it along the ground for Lily. James found another and collapsed into it as Lily thanked Remus and sat down.

"Where have you been?" Isabelle asked. It was impossible for her to keep some of the desperation out of her voice.

Lily grimaced. "Slughorn just gave us an hour-long speech about the perks of being heads of the school," she said. "Literally. It was literally an hour long."

"But I just saw him dancing the Macarena with Dorcas Meadowes." Isabelle frowned.

"Yeah, we only just slipped away," said James. "We've been hiding to make sure he doesn't find us again."

Lily nodded, and there was another awkward beat of silence.

Remus coughed. "Er, Isabelle was just about to explain a game to me. What was it again? Never Something?"

"I Never," she corrected with a smile.

Lily perked up at this. "Ooh, were you going to play? My sister detests that game, so naturally I love it."

"Er, I don't—"

"Why not?" It was James who cut in, shrugging. "A game sounds perfect right about now."

"I'm in," Lily agreed.

"Right, me too then," said Remus. "But how do you play?"

Isabelle found the eyes of the two boys to be fixed expectantly on her, so she took the reins. "It's a drinking game," she said, "but we'll just do butterbeer, obviously. Basically, whoever goes first has to say something they've never done, like for example, 'I've never shoplifted'. Then, if someone actually _has _shoplifted, they have to take a drink, and so on. If you drink, you have to explain when and where you did whatever it was."

There were nods of understanding all around.

"Sounds simple enough," said James. "I'll get some more drinks."

When he returned, he was carrying four bottles of butterbeer and wearing a cheerful grin.

"Jeez, did you get enough—" Remus stopped abruptly when James stepped aside to reveal Evangeline and Sirius. The two of them were damp, hair-matted and furious, and the amount of loathing pouring out of their eyes could have started a bonfire.

"Found them by the entrance," James said casually as he set the bottles down with a _clink_. "About to kill one another. Figured they might as well join us."

Whatever had gone down, it had apparently been enough to put the pair of them into an angry white silence. There were expressions of concern all around when Sirius wrestled a nearby chair towards him and flipped it around to sit back-to-front. Evangeline, meanwhile, swiped a seat from the arms of a passing second-year and plonked onto it with a scowl.

Then, they all shifted in discomfort, probably wondering how on earth the six of them had ended up at the same table. Sirius took sip after sip of his butterbeer, staring moodily ahead, and Evangeline's fists were clenched to tightly there was a very real possibility that she might burst a blood vessel. While James and Lily continued to avoid eye contact, Isabelle and Remus exchanged a quick glance which illustrated the hopelessness of the situation.

"So…" Remus said cautiously, as though someone might rip his head off for the suggestion, "are we going to play?"

"Sorry, what are we playing?" Evangeline asked, her tone detached.

"I Never," said Isabelle.

Sirius looked confused. "You never what?"

Once Isabelle had run through a quick rules recap and everyone knew how to play, Lily leaned forward and said brightly, "I'll start!"

Sirius protested. "Why do you get to start? I want to start."

"Fine, go for it."

There were a few seconds of silence. "Damn," he finally said. "Never mind, I haven't thought of anything yet. You go ahead."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Alright then. I never... cheated on an exam."

Sirius, whose mood seemed to be rapidly improving, gave a roguish grin and took a swig. "_Never_, Evans? Where's your sense of rebellion?"

"Run off with _your_ integrity, apparently."

Mildly surprising was the fact that no one else drank.

"Wow," Sirius said in dismay. "I sense that this game is going to be incredibly dull."

Lily rolled her eyes. "You're meant to tell us when and where, don't forget."

"You expect me to remember every single time?" Sirius wore a shit-eating grin that quickly drooped as the others stared at him as though they had been expecting no less. "Oi, only joking! I'm not _that _pathetic." He heaved a sigh of exasperation. "It was Divination, fourth year. I rearranged all the leaves in my teacup when Trelawney wasn't looking."

"I _knew _there had to be a reason you beat me in that exam!" Remus elbowed him in the side. "Cheater."

"Technically," Sirius corrected, holding up his index finger, "I used my _inner eye _to find a solution for having not studied, mate. It was really just cleverness."

"Right, keep telling yourself that."

"Alright, James, you're next," Isabelle said.

The head boy cleared his throat and paused to think, finally deciding on, "I've never been into Knockturn Alley."

Again, Sirius was the first to drink. This time, however, he was surprisingly joined by Evangeline.

"Well?" asked Isabelle when they both failed to elaborate.

Eva kept her eyes focused on the table. "I snuck in when I was eleven with… someone I used to know."

Sirius was gripping his bottle so tightly that it was a miracle he hadn't crushed it yet. "Me too," he grunted.

The others exchanged looks of bewilderment.

"Well that was… strange," said James after a moment. "Moving on. It's your turn, Remus."

"I never sent anyone a love letter."

James looked as though he'd had the wind knocked out of his sails. Reddening, he ducked his head to take a drink. To everyone's surprise, Isabelle also raised her butterbeer to her mouth.

"I was eight," she said, making a grim face. "It was for a boy who lived on my street."

Remus appeared quite interested. "How did it turn out?"

"He, er, tore it into tiny pieces and made fun of me, actually."

"What a git," Remus scoffed. "I bet he had a git name, like... I dunno, Percival."

"Timothy." Isabelle shrugged. "To be fair, he was like nine."

"Still."

"And James?" Evangeline cut in, nodding toward him. "I mean, I think Lily is a given, but was there anyone else?"

Sirius spewed out some laughter at this. "Oh, Prongs," he said. "How did my favourite one go, again? _Dearest Lily, I feel I must tell you that you are the most beautiful girl I have ever—_"

"Shut it, would you?" James said, whacking Sirius on the shoulder. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "And no. There was no one else."

"He only had eyes for the one," Sirius added, sniffing.

"_Sirius_—"

"Right," Evangeline said. "I think we've established that James used to be creepily obsessed with Lily. It's your go, Black."

While James ducked his head in embarrassment, Sirius turned a spiteful look in Evangeline's direction. "I've never dated a Slytherin," he said mockingly.

"I'm never going to hear the end of that one, am I?" Evangeline snapped, glaring right back. "I went on one bloody date with Thorton and apparently I'm a house traitor for life."

"Wait, Thorton?" James lifted his eyebrows. "The one who looks like some sort of rodent? The sixth year?"

"Rat-face," Sirius confirmed.

"Our grandparents set us up," Evangeline hurried to defend herself. "If you must know, it was mind-numbingly boring and his owl crapped on my favourite jeans. Fun times." She took a massive drink of butterbeer and then wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve. "Who's next?"

"You," said Lily.

"Oh, right." Her eyes slid back to Sirius, and anger and frustration poured into her heart as she examined his smirky profile. _Something good_, her mind was saying. _Something that will really get to him..._

It came to her almost immediately; a horribly evil smile twisted her pretty face into something almost demonic. She lifted her head, pausing for dramatic effect, and then: "I've never had a crush on someone sitting at this table."

The response was immediate and rather more intense than expected. Sirius narrowed his eyes and averted his gaze, but not before giving a long glare that said _That was a low blow, even for you_. That wasn't the surprising bit, however. Evangeline was taken aback when she saw that his reaction was somewhat mirrored by the others.

"Eva!" Lily sputtered. "You can't say _that_."

"Why not?" asked Evangeline, feeling rather amused.

"B-Because!" Isabelle stammered. "It's not… proper."

Mildly bewildered by her friends' vehement protests, Evangeline just shrugged. "Rules of the game, maties. You all have to answer."

"You don't even _know_ the rules," said Lily through gritted teeth.

"Fine, compromise. I'll make it so that you don't have to say who it is."

James shrugged in something like defeat. "Bloody obvious anyway," he said, taking a swig.

It seemed to break the ice. Isabelle was next, cheeks blooming red as she ducked her head to drink and missing the way Remus' eyes slid quickly in her direction before he followed suit. Lily, meanwhile, looked as though she was making a life or death decision. In the end, she took a sip so small it might as well have been non-existent. It still made Evangeline's jaw drop.

Sirius was the last to drink. With stormy eyes narrowed in Eva's direction, he tilted his bottle upward and took a long sip, slamming it back onto the table. "Well, that was fun," he said, and his voice was like tires on gravel. "I'm off." Without another word, he stood abruptly and stalked away.

James and Remus, exchanging a quick glance, moved to follow him. Remus seemed to struggle with words for a second, but apparently found nothing as he left silently to catch up to his mates.

Evangeline stared ahead, dazed and astonished, wondering how things had managed to escalate so quickly. Very, very slowly, she turned to face her pink-cheeked friends with a look that screamed _tell me everything_.

* * *

"Oi, come _on_!" Evangeline said. Again. "Am I your best mate or not? We're meant to tell each other these things."

The three of them were sitting on Isabelle's bed, pyjama-clad and sprawled about lazily between the red velvet curtains. Their wands were scattered in the centre, where they glowed at the tips and cast a sheen of golden light around the small sanctuary.

Evangeline, who had been lying on her back with her feet propped up against one of the bedposts, tucked her legs in and rolled into a seated position to stare intensely at Isabelle. "It's Black, isn't it?" she said.

Nothing.

"Remus, then."

"Seriously, I'm not talking about this." Isabelle was pressed against the headboard, knees drawn up against her chest. Everything about her was a closed book.

Letting out a huff of breath, Evangeline swivelled her head. "_Lily_..."

"You keep going back and forth as though it's going to change something." Lily rolled her eyes. "I'm still not talking."

Evangeline slumped down. "You both suck."

There was a moment of silence.

"So, is it... Lupin?" Eva raised her eyebrows hopefully in Lily's direction.

"_Oh my god_, seriously!" The head girl grabbed the pillow that was between her back and the headboard and chucked it towards her.

Evangeline ducked. "Oi, uncalled for!" She crossed her arms and let out a loud harrumph. "Right, clearly I'm going to have to work this out for myself. But where to start...?" Lily rolled her eyes at the soul-searching look she was receiving. "It's obviously a current thing, since you're both acting so stupid about it."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Isa, stop trying to deny it. Right, let's see... I'm going to rule Black out right off the bat since he's a piece of shit, basically, and we all know it. So that leaves Potter and Lupin..." She turned a Sherlock Holmes-worthy gaze on the blonde. "I know your type," she said. "You like the innocent ones. All cute and quiet and stuff. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say... _Remus_."

Isabelle lifted her shoulders up in something that resembled surrender.

"_I knew it_! Isa, that's adorable. Why are you trying to keep this a secret?!"

"Because," she hissed, red-cheeked. "It's stupid and he's like... light years out of my league."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. We need to work on your self esteem."

"It's only a little crush," Isabelle insisted. "I hardly know him."

"That's what they all say..."

Isabelle stared at her through frosty narrowed eyes. "Would you mind transferring your attention to Lily now?"

"Don't mind if I do." Evangeline turned a bright grin towards the redhead. "Lily, Lily, Lily... Time to confess."

Lily blanched. "I, er, suddenly don't really feel well. Must go... to bed..." She moved as though to exit the curtained four-poster, but Evangeline leaped forward dragging her back until they both fell sideways, squashing Isabelle's legs.

"Nuh-uh," Evangeline said, "you're not getting away."

"Oww!" Lily rolled away, clutching her wrist.

Eva adopted her best puppy dog eyes. "Please tell us."

"It's only fair," Isabelle added.

Lily bit her lip. "If I do..." she began quietly, "...you both have to promise not to laugh. And this doesn't leave the sacred four-poster tent."

"Well, no promises on the laughing bit." Evangeline smiled and then nudged Lily in the side. "Duh, in all seriousness though, I promise."

"Me too," Isabelle said with her usual sincerity.

Lily glanced at their faces, taking a deep breath. "Oh god, this is going to sound so stupid." She wrinkled her nose. "Alright. I sort of... just recently... _may _have started developing..." She grimaced, "...feelings? For... Potter."

The silence was so deep that Evangeline and Isabelle might have stopped breathing. They stared at Lily like a pair of twin statues, mouths hanging open in shock. It was the eerie calm that descended before a storm.

"Come again?" Evangeline finally said faintly.

"Don't make me repeat it, please. It was bad enough saying that once."

"Should we be inspecting your food for amortentia?"

Lily grimaced. "I don't know!" She buried her face in a pillow. "He's just—He's stupidly different this year, and stupidly friendly. And he hasn't acted like a prat even once, really. Tell me that's not strange."

"Oh, no. It's strange," Evangeline agreed.

Isabelle finally spoke up. "When did this start?"

"Well..." Lily considered. "I'm not sure. I guess tonight, maybe. When we were dancing."

"I'm sorry—dancing?" Evangeline grasped at the air with her fingers. "Am I living in a different world here? When did this happen?"

"Before you arrived," Isabelle said.

"On Slughorn's orders," Lily added.

Eva leaned back against the footboard. "Well at _that _rate... I bags Maid of Honour at your wedding. Just saying."

"Oh, shut it." Lily raised her head from the pillow, and her face was emanating despair. "What am I going to do?"

Apparently, neither of her friends had an answer. Both seemed to be lost in their own minds, and for a moment the three of them sat there in silence.

"I'm seriously tired," Isabelle finally said. "Sleep time?"

"You're not getting your bed back," Evangeline replied. "I'm too comfy here."

Lily, whose face was back in the pillow, grunted in agreement.

"Fine, stay if you like." Isabelle fluffed up her pillows and curled up on her side. "But Eva, if you start kicking, I'm tossing you out."

"Yeah, yeah." Evangeline swatted a lazy hand through the air. "Sweet Remus-y dreams."

* * *

**A/N: **Endless thank yous to all of the reviewers! Hold onto your knickers, because the DADA camp should be starting in the next chapter if all goes according to plan and I have big plans for it! ;)

-Liz


	6. Breaking the Silence

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Breaking the Silence**

The week following "The Incident" (as it had been dubbed by Evangeline after Lily and Isabelle had taken to smacking her in the arm every time she mentioned a certain group of boys by name) was highly uncomfortable, to say the least. Both parties avoided one another like the plague, which proved somewhat difficult at times thanks to the fact that they were in the same house and shared most of their classes. Lily and Isabelle went out of their way to evade James and Remus despite Evangeline's claims that they were "only making it even more obvious than it already was" and "being stupid". They had taken to diving into empty classrooms whenever said Gryffindor boys were around, and once, in a panicked realization that there were no classrooms in sight, they had squashed themselves behind a tapestry, leaving Evangeline to stand stupidly by herself in the corridor and give Remus a cheesy smile and wave when he passed.

While she tended to roll her eyes at her friends' avoidance techniques, Evangeline secretly didn't mind that she had yet another reason to avoid Black. He had become, if possible, even more hostile since the incident. During the course of the week, he had tripped her up a record total of thirty-four times, publicly humiliated her twice and seemed to have an infinite supply of evil glares to throw her way.

Maybe it was the stress of the week, or perhaps it was due to the sickeningly perfumed air of the divination classroom, but Evangeline was fighting a stronger than usual urge to sleep as she struggled to absorb the quavering trill that was Althea Trelawney's voice. The batty old professor was currently demonstrating a crystal ball reading for Peter Pettigrew, who was her favourite target because he tended to believe everything that she said without question.

"Alas!" she said dramatically. "A red moon rises upon the horizon. Danger is near!" As she thrust the swirling glass sphere under his nose for effect, Peter gave a small yelp. "My dear," Trelawney continued in a voice that was grave nearly to the point of ridiculousness, "There is something else in here... yes, I can see it now."

Evangeline stared with a deadpan expression, musing that watching students squirm as you predicted their deaths was a very, very odd way to get your kicks. To Trelawney, the anxiety of Peter's face seemed to be a sort of drug. She was smiling gleefully, wrinkles marring her cheeks and disappearing into the sides of her bejeweled turban.

"What is it, Professor?" Pettigrew asked in a very small voice.

Trelawney gazed regretfully at his round face. "It pains me to say, my dear, but it is... _The Grim_."

Evangeline snorted at the professor's shawl-covered back. "Okay seriously," she hissed to Isabelle, "is she _still _using that one on us? That's just pathetic."

"I'm more concerned about the fact that Pettigrew still believes it," the blonde replied. Across the way, Peter looked terrified. Remus, who was sitting on the adjacent pouf, was attempting to console him while fighting against laughter. He patted him awkwardly on the back and then shook his head, turning back to his own work. Isabelle kept watching as his eyes trailed from his notes to his crystal ball, back to the parchment and then made an _alright, mate? _expression in Peter's direction.

What she wasn't expecting was for the next destination to be her own face. She froze instantly when he caught her staring, completely unprepared for the flood of emotions that overcame her. Remus swallowed, a strange, pained look in his golden eyes, and Isabelle shivered. _He's only feeling sorry for you._ An irritating voice somewhere in the back of her mind voiced her greatest fear. _He knows you like him now thanks to that stupid game and he doesn't like you back._

Isabelle tore her eyes away immediately; she didn't need his pity.

It was then that she noticed the repetitive thud that was shaking the desk under her elbows. Evangeline was hunched over, banging her forehead against the table in a steady rhythm.

"Stop it, you're going to lose brain cells," Isabelle said, sticking a hand out so that the next time Eva's head came down, it fell flat onto her palm.

Evangeline looked over, her hair astray and her expression morose. "Brain cells are a lost cause in this class anyway."

"That's..." Isabelle deflated. "...sadly true."

With a grunt, Evangeline crossed her arms and lowered them onto the table, plonking her head down and turning to stare up with glassy blue eyes. "D'you think she'd notice if I fell asleep?"

Isabelle considered. "Probably."

"Well then... I dunno, just tell her that I'm in a mystical trance or something."

"Miss Hansen!" A blur of shawls and beads swooped down upon them like a shrivelled, ornamented bat. The amount of perfume in the air was almost painful to the nostrils. "This is a classroom, not a dormitory."

Eva sat up and rubbed her eyes. "My mistake, I apologize," she monotoned.

Trelawney gazed at her coolly, eyes matching the onyx-black gems in her turban. "Your aura is fading, dear."

Isabelle, mostly for selfish reasons that involved a fear of her only companion in this class being asked to leave, decided to speak up. "Eva was actually just telling me about a strange dream she's been having. We were wondering if it might mean something."

Bingo. Trelawney's eyebrows lifted ever so slightly at the exhilarating prospect of dream analysis. "Ahh, how intriguing. Dreams are the pathways to our inner souls, if only we can reach far enough to free ourselves. What visions have been gracing your slumber, my dear?"

Evangeline blinked. "Oh. Er, well. I get this one a lot where I'm flying over London and my broom turns to marshmallow..."

* * *

By the end of the lesson, Trelawney had forgotten all about reprimanding Evangeline for sleeping during class and had deduced from the marshmallow dream that she was riddled with anxiety about her family and would likely suffer a tragically premature death.

"We need to ditch that class," Eva lamented as she and Isabelle hurried down the spiral staircase. "I can actually _feel _my brain leaking out of my head."

"At least it's entertaining," said Isabelle. "Sometimes."

They were just round the corner at the end of the stairs when a loud "What's up, chicken butts?" met their ears. It was Lily, who was filing out of her Ancient Runes classroom and wearing a huge grin.

"I always feel like I should take offence at that greeting," said Evangeline.

"It's funny and it rhymes," Lily said. "I like it. How was Abomination?" It was what Lily had taken to calling Trelawney's class the previous year, and no one could dispute its suitability.

"Abominable," Evangeline replied. "My head's killing me from that sodding incense."

"My back hurts from those stupid sofas," Isabelle added.

"Trelawney predicted my untimely death."

"Okay, really," Lily said, "Why on earth are you still taking this class?"

A slight pause. "It's still better than doing actual work," Evangeline admitted.

"Oh..." Isabelle stopped suddenly. "Oh no..." She searched through all of her pockets and rifled through her bag. "I think I left my wand up there."

Evangeline frowned. "You'd better go rescue it. Trelawney might mistake it for a mystical tea-stirring stick or something."

"Do you want us to come?" Lily asked, but Isabelle shook her head.

"No, I'll get it, don't worry. I'll meet you in the Great Hall, 'kay?"

* * *

The good news was that Isabelle managed to find her wand without encountering Trelawney. The bad news was that she'd bumped into Remus and Peter on the way up the tower. The boys had been loping down the stairs as she hurried back up, and she felt her cheeks blaze as she brushed past, deliberately avoiding eye contact with her head ducked. It was so incredibly stupid, but she was past the point of trying to rationalize this behaviour. It was what it was.

In the end, she practically ran from the classroom, hoping to escape before Trelawney appeared and tried to cleanse her aura or something. Luck, however, was not on her side. She was clearing the last of the spiralling steps when a quavering voice floated downwards.

"I sense a malignant presence." Trelawney was halfway down the stairs, clutching the railing and squinting in Isabelle's direction. "Who is there?"

Isabelle bit her lip. _Just walk away. Pretend you didn't hear her._

Unfortunately, Trelawney had already seen her. Or at least, she was trying to see her.

"Who's there?" she repeated sharply, readjusting her spectacles. "Is it you, great spirit of Lady Carallyn?" She took a few more steps.

It all happened very quickly from that moment, and Isabelle was powerless to stop it. Trelawney, blind as a bat, took one step too many and missed the foothold.

A short, stunned scream errupted from Isabelle's mouth, and her hands flew upward to cover it. She reached frantically for her wand, jamming her hands into all the wrong pockets and watching in horror as the woman tumbled down the staircase, beaded necklaces clashing against one another as she hit every step with a sickening clinking noise.

"Professor!" Isabelle shrieked, dropping her books and rushing towards the motionless pile of shawls sprawled out at the foot of the stairs. _Please don't let her be dead. Please don't let her be dead…_ She repeated the silent prayer frantically as she fell to her knees. Trelawney groaned and rolled over, looking oddly vulnerable without her glasses.

Footsteps and a masculine gasp penetrated the silence, and Isabelle spun to see two figures silhouetted against the massive stained glass window. Remus and Peter.

"Er, hi," Remus breathed. His hair was windswept, and in combination with the way Peter was doubled over, it appeared they had just been sprinting an Olympic dash. "Was that you screaming?"

Peter tried to straighten up. "Told you it was nothing. Why'd you make us run all the way from—"

Remus elbowed his friend harshly but discretely and Peter closed his mouth, though it may have simply been that he had inadequate oxygen supplies to carry on speaking.

Isabelle's mind was whirring. She thought she might be in shock. Could they not see the partially unconscious heap of wool and tassels in front of her? "It's..." She moved to the side, unblocking Trelawney's body from view.

"Merlin!" Remus took a forward reflexively. "What happened?"

"She fell down the stairs," replied Isabelle in a tone that was strangely detached.

Remus covered the distance between them quickly and dropped to his knees beside her. Peter followed, but kept his distance, gaping stupidly at Trelawney with his mouth hanging open. As though by reflex, Isabelle shifted away from Remus slightly, putting more space between them. If he noticed this, he didn't show it. He reached out and took Trelawney's wrist, presumably to check for a pulse. Isabelle could have told him that she had moved a second ago, but her throat was tight for some reason and she didn't trust herself to say anything.

Neither of them was prepared for what happened next.

As soon as Remus' fingers made contact with Trelawney's skin, her eyes flew open and she grabbed his arm in a frighteningly sudden motion. Isabelle gasped, Peter let out a girly shriek and Remus attempted to free his wrist, but to no avail. Her fingers were clamped around it in a vicelike grip, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"_A grave misfortune approaches…" _she spoke suddenly in a hoarse, grating that caused the hairs on Isabelle's arms to rise. _"As the day becomes the night eight will lose their way and the earth will take two prisoners… A winged beast will be the harbinger of destruction and the magic will fail when it is needed most, but the fighters will prevail under the guidance of courage and warmth… A fierce battle will bridge a gap created many years ago… As the morrow dawns, the saviour will emerge from the mist..."_

Trelawney released her death grip on Remus' wrist and blinked slowly, as though she had just woken from a deep sleep.

"Professor…?" Isabelle's voice was barely a whisper.

Trelawney sat up, looking dazed and mildly disoriented. "Where am I?" she wondered, looking between Isabelle and Remus in confusion. Her glasses lay on the ground beside her, smashed to bits.

"You… You had a bad fall," Isabelle explained in a shaky voice. Remus was examining his wrist with a stupefied expression, as though trying to figure out if he was dreaming.

"Aurelia? Is that you?" Trelawney said randomly, squinting at a stone gargoyle

"No, I'm Peter. Peter Pettigrew," Peter surprised everyone by speaking, clearly thinking himself helpful, but merely adding to the confusion.

"Professor, I think we should get you to the hospital wing," advised Remus, ignoring Peter's stupidity.

Trelawney had already stumbled to her feet. "No, no…" she muttered distractedly. "Lesson in ten minutes… must prepare the tea…"

"Reparo," muttered Isabelle, mending the damaged glasses with a flick of her wand. "Here," she said, holding them out for her teacher to take. It took the visually-impaired professor five attempts to locate them and pick them up, and then an entire ten seconds to put them on properly without stabbing herself in the eye.

"Professor, what did you mean by all that?" asked Remus.

Trelawney blinked at him. "By what, Mr. Lumpin?" Peter let out an odd sort of choked cough at this horrendous mispronunciation.

"You said something about a 'winged beast'," Isabelle stepped in impatiently, reciting the first line that came to mind.

Trelawney looked between her and Remus as though they were crazy (_sort of ironic_, thought Isabelle). "I have no idea what you are talking about, my dear. Perhaps you mistook the voices of the third realm for my own."

"I don't think—"

"I cannot stay long, my child. I have another class coming in…"

"I—you—but—" Remus sputtered.

"Find your way to class now. Do not be led astray by the malevolent spirits…" And with that, she staggered up the stairs, leaving them standing, bewildered, at the bottom.

"Well, that was… weird," Remus finally said.

Peter smirked. "You're right about that, _Mr. Lumpin_." He mocked Trelawney's version of the name in an annoying singsong voice.

"Shut up, Pete."

Isabelle saw their bickering as a means of escape. She began to back away slowly. "Well, um, I should… get back so I can… pack," she said lamely, avoiding Remus' eyes.

Remus stared at the ground. "Yeah… me—I mean us—too," he replied hastily, jamming his hands into his pockets.

"Right. Well, I'll see you then."

It was only as she sped off down the corridor and her brain began to function normally again that Isabelle realised three things:

1. Professor Trelawney had quite possibly just made a real prediction.

2. She had just spoken to Remus for the first time in seven days.

3. The avoidance technique had obviously failed miserably, because she was still hopelessly, head-over-heels besotted with a certain sandy haired Marauder.

* * *

"How come Lily's done packing already?" Evangeline whined to no one in particular, regarding her own half-full suitcase with disdain.

Lily rolled her eyes and threw a pair of snitch-patterned socks into her friend's bag. "I am not even going to answer that."

Evangeline's eyebrows contracted in confusion. "Why not?" she asked, much to her friend's chagrin. Lily threw the next pair of balled up socks, a hideous combination of banana yellow and coarse wool, at Evangeline's head.

"Hey!" she said indignantly.

Isabelle scoffed loudly. "Eva, why didn't you just get your packing done last night like everyone else?" She passed over a pile of carefully folded clothes, which Evangeline proceeded to dump unceremoniously into her suitcase.

"Too much homework."

"Right, and that 'homework' involved sneaking out to the kitchens for pie and playing five rounds of gobstones with Alice." Lily raised a brow sarcastically.

Evangeline crossed her arms. "I was hungry. And it wasn't just _rounds_, it was a _tournament_. Besides, Dumbledore said that they'd given us the rest of the day off to pack, so that's what I'm doing."

Approximately two hours had elapsed since the Trelawney incident and the seventh years were organising the last of their belongings for the Defence Against the Dark Arts camp, which they would be leaving for later that day. They'd been given the afternoon off in order to prepare, and the mounting excitement was spreading throughout the girls' dormitories like some sort of giddy plague.

"Besides," added Isabelle, who had stopped bothering to fold Evangeline's clothes and was flinging them into the suitcase one by one. "Lily and I are pretty much doing your packing for you anyways. I don't know what you're complaining about."

Evangeline gave a sheepish grin. "I know. You know I love you." Her expression changed. "Speaking of looove..."

Isabelle groaned and slumped over on Eva's bed, burying her face in the pillow.

"Eva, if you bring this up one more time today I _will_ set fire to your trunk," Lily warned. "Besides, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm not even sure if I… oh my god!" She stopped mid-sentence with a look of having just remembered something of desperate importance.

"What?" Isabelle and Evangeline asked in unison.

Lily jumped up quickly from the bed. "I completely forgot… Damn! I'll be right back…" She practically sprinted from the room, leaving her friends to exchange worried expressions.

"Ookaay…"

* * *

Lily wasn't entirely sure why she was standing outside of the boys' dormitories with her hand hovering near the door, poised to knock.

She knew it had something to do with a memory which had been sparked at the almost-mention of Potter's name earlier, but the adrenaline coursing through her body was stopping her from thinking straight. Never mind the fact that she'd been going out of her way to avoid James for a week straight, or that she was wearing an old T-shirt over rolled up sweat pants. She was acting an impulse that she couldn't really explain.

"_Maybe we should go for an earlier time. Four-thirty?"_

He had rescheduled their meeting… and she had completely forgotten about it. Lily could just see him waiting around for hours without her showing up, and for some reason the thought made her feel incredibly guilty. Why hadn't he said anything to her? She felt compelled to apologise, or at least explain herself.

Gritting her teeth, she gave a hesitant knock. The immediate response was a muffled scurrying sound from inside the dormitory.

"Who is it?" she heard Sirius call out.

"Er… it's Lily," she replied, suddenly feeling very foolish.

"_Who_?" Came Sirius' shocked response, as though he couldn't believe his ears.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Lily. Lily Evans. I need to talk to Potter!"

Unbeknownst to the occupants of the dormitory, their response carried out crystal clear into the corridor.

"_Prongs! Prongs! It's Evans!"_

There was a crash. "_What? Are you serious?"_

"_Of course he's Sirius! Who else would he be?"_

"_Ugh, seriously Pete! This is NOT the time!"_

"Um… Just give us a second!" Remus shouted overtop of the bickering.

"_Just hide the cloak under Wormtail's bed…"_

"_There's not enough room!"_

"_Pete, would you get up and help us?"_

"_Crap! Where should I put these?"_

"_There's some space by the bookshelf…"_

"Hey Lily." The door burst open suddenly to reveal a very eager James Potter wearing a huge, face-splitting grin. His hair was lightly mussed but otherwise he looked cool and casual in his t-shirt and black jeans. The other three occupants of the dormitory stood awkwardly in the background—Sirius with his hands behind his back, Remus frantically jamming something that looked like an old scrap of parchment inside his trunk and Peter putting on a pretentious smile, as though trying to feign innocence. Lily decided she didn't even want to know what they had been doing when she knocked. She cleared her throat.

"Right. Hi. I just wanted to say sorry for the other night."

James blinked. "The other night?"

"I've had so much going on lately and it completely slipped my mind and—"

"Hang on, what?"

"—I feel quite bad, so I wanted to apologize." Lily stopped abruptly, finally taking in the way James' eyes were squinted and his lips were slightly parted. "Why are you making that face?"

James pressed his lips shut. "I just... have no idea what you're on about."

A few seconds of silence ticked by, and it was like the countdown to a bomb detonation.

"Are you serious?" Lily's words came out less like a question and more like a very irritated deadpan.

"...Yes?"

"The _meeting_, you idiot."

Recognition filled every crevice of his face. "Ahh." He lifted his chin into the air. Then, he started laughing. "Yeah, I forgot as well."

"You've got to be kidding me. How could you forget?"

"Didn't you just come here to tell me that _you _forgot?"

"Yes, but at least I remembered that I forgot."

"Well I forgot that I forgot!"

Lily let a noise of frustration burst from her chest. "I can't believe I even bothered apologize."

"It was very thoughtful."

"Well I'm retracting my apology, prat. You don't deserve it anymore."

"Will you two just kiss already?" Sirius called out from the background. "The tension is getting painful."

"Oi, go do your potions essay, you tosser." James' cheeks were slightly red. Resetting his shoulders, he grabbed Lily's wrist. "C'mere," he muttered, pulling her out into the corridor and letting the door slam behind them.

"Ouch," Lily pried his fingers away in a reflex response that was akin to how a person might react to finding an enormous leach on their skin.

James released her immediately. "Sorry," he said, running a hand through his untidy hair. "Sometimes getting away from Sirius requires drastic action. Er, I guess we should arrange to meet some other time, then?" He phrased it as more of a question than a statement.

Lily took a deep breath. "Right… I was going to suggest Tuesday, after the camp."

A stupid, dog-like whimper interrupted their conversation from inside the dormitory, followed by scratching against the wooden door.

James groaned. "Padfoot, would you get lost, _please_?"

There was a muffled cackle, and then Sirius' footsteps could be heard retreating back into the room.

"Sorry about him." James offered an apology for his mate's behaviour. "He gets like that when he's had too much sugar. Well, any amount of sugar, really. So, Tuesday then?"

Lily nodded. "Head's Room?"

James was about to open his mouth when suddenly, the door creaked open. Sirius' face emerged from the narrow crack, along with one arm, grasped at the end of which was his wand.

"What are you...?"

A rustling sound above their heads caused James and Lily's attention to be diverted, and they both glanced upwards just in time to see a twisting sprig of mistletoe erupt from the plaster.

"Okay seriously, what the hell?" James said in exasperation.

Sirius wore his best shit-eating grin. "Only trying to help."

"I don't know what you're trying to imply," Lily said testily, "but it's not even remotely close to Christmas, and therefore, your point is moot."

Sirius raised an eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe. "Don't get all intelligent with me and shit, Evans,"

"Fine then, I'll dumb it down. GET LOST."

"Harsh."

"Your efforts to help are appreciated," James consoled him. "But please shut the fuck up."

Sirius heaved a dramatic sigh. "The thanks I get for being a kind, helpful person... S'no secret that James has been arse over elbow in lov—"

James had lifted his arm out to slap across his mate's mouth. He looked murderous. "Sorry Lily," he said. "Tuesday in the Head's Room, yeah? I'll see you then."

And with that, he shoved Sirius' head back into the dorm and followed him inside.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, I lied… the DADA camp _was_ going to start in this chapter, but I decided to split it in half because it was approaching 9000 words when I was only three quarters of the way through writing it. I am SO sorry for the ridiculously long wait. Turns out people weren't joking when they said year twelve was torture. I've basically spent this year doing study, study, and more study… with a bit of writing here and there. Chapter six was written very sporadically and I have to admit I'm a little out of practice, so I'm sorry if it's not up to my usual standards.

On the bright side, school is OVER! And you know what that means… I have plenty of time for writing again!

You could leave a review to pass the time if you wanted… wink, wink, nudge, nudge… :D

-Liz


	7. Over the Edge

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Over the Edge**

When Lily scuttled back into her own dorm, she nearly crashed into Anna and Skye, who were attempting to exit with large suitcases.

"Canada, Lily!" Skye said cheerily in her usual pointless-but-relevant manner of speaking.

Anna nudged the leggy blonde forward. "Move along, would you? My arms are already falling off. See you on the other side, Evans."

Evangeline and Isabelle were exactly where she'd left them, still perched on the corner four-poster and waiting for her.

"What was that all about?" Isabelle asked, noting Lily's petulant expression as she approached.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"No, no, you have to tell us. We've taken bets," Evangeline explained in all earnestness.

Lily's glare said everything as she mock-enthused: "Oh, well in _that _case..."

"You see," Eva carried on, "using our infallible detective skills, we have narrowed it down to two possibilities. Either you had a massive eureka moment and realized that you're truly, madly, deeply in love with Potter, causing you to reflexively run slow-motion-style into the boys dorms and pledge your undying affection for him, _or _you remembered that you, too, had left your wand in Trelawney's chamber of tea and sadness."

"Despite not actually being in said class," Isabelle added.

"...Your 'infallible detective skills' kind of suck."

"Okay really though." Isabelle studied Lily searchingly. "We _were_ sort of worried. We thought it was some sort of Head Girl Emergency or something."

Evangeline stood up and swung around the bed post with her arms out straight and her body limp. "Bold-faced lie. I'm a hundred percent serious about the Potter theory."

"You're both half-right," Lily allowed. "It's not even worth discussing."

"Wait a second." Evangeline snapped to attention right away, grasping at the post for dear life. "Half-right. So...?"

"_So _I went to remind Potter about a meeting," Lily said in exasperation. "As I said: Not even worth discussing."

"Alright, alright. We should probably hurry, eh? When are we meant to be leaving?"

Lily glanced down at her watch and felt her heart leap. "Crap! We were meant to be meeting in the courtyard five minutes ago."

"What?" Evangeline and Isabelle shrieked in unison. Lily catapulted herself off of the bed without realizing that her foot was tangled in the duvet and ended up sprawled out across the floor with her arms askew and the fleecy fibres of the carpet in her mouth. Spitting out the fluff, she looked up to see Evangeline frantically throwing things into her suitcase while Isabelle rummaged through her trunk, searching madly for something.

As she rose to her feet, she noted the dull pain in her hip and decided there would likely be a bruise there tomorrow. "Calm down, you two, it's—blergh!" A crumpled bunch of fabric smacked against her face and then fell to the floor in a heap.

"Sorry!" Isabelle exclaimed, barely pausing from her frantic search mission. Whether intentionally or not, she threw another shirt in Lily's direction.

This time, the head girl dodged the attack, but she quickly became distracted by the other odd spectacle in the room. "Eva," she said, "why are you packing your table lamp?"

Evangeline paused momentarily, her eyes revealing a frenzied state of mind. "I don't know!" she wailed. "I'm just throwing everything in!"

"I can't find my jumper!" Isabelle's tone was bordering on hysterical.

"Okay, everybody just... _stop_!" The shout, which had erupted from Lily's mouth, hung in the room as though someone had hit pause. Then, one of Isabelle's skirts, which had been dangling precariously from the chandelier, fell onto Evangeline's head.

It was too much. Lily reached out blindly and grabbed the nearest bedpost for support while Isabelle doubled over and Evangeline slumped down to the floor, laughing feverishly.

Not one of them noticed the door creak open.

"Girls!" McGonagall's voice was enough to immediately sober them. "_What_..." She trailed off as her eyes skimmed around the room, flicking from the jeans hanging from Lily's bedpost to the array of oddities in Evangeline's suitcase and finally coming to rest on Eva herself, who still had the shirt draped over her head and resembled some sort of floral patterned ghost.

"I promise there's a rational explanation," Lily said, after a very pregnant pause.

Evangeline took this moment to pull the fabric off of her head, leaving her hair all staticky and disheveled.

McGonagall stared, lips smothered into a tight line. "Your classmates are leaving for Canada as we speak."

"We're very sorry." Lily for the group, feeling incredibly foolish. "We were… having a hard time finding our jumpers."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "I can see that," she deadpanned, reaching out gingerly to drag a sock out of Lily's hair. "Now get yourselves together and follow me, or else you won't be going to Canada at all."

From there, things only went from bad to worse.

As the girls exited the castle, they came across a sight that almost made Lily want to cry.

The very last group of sane people was already crowded around a portkey headed to Celestial Lake, and the four males remaining in the courtyard were about the last people in the universe she wanted to be stuck with.

"Lilsie!" Sirius cried jovially when McGonagall deposited them near the portkeys. He was holding his arms out and approaching Lily with a frightening glint in his eyes.

She used her comparatively short stature to its full advantage, dodging his embrace and turning around to glare at him. "Do _not _touch me."

"You're awfully vicious today," Sirius remarked. "What are you two goody-goodies doing here so late?" He was clearly ignoring Evangeline's existence, and Lily saw the brunette tense up out of the corner of her eye.

"Us?" Isabelle spoke up unexpectedly. "What are youall still doing here?"

Sirius shrugged. "Apparently Wolfe was being serious when he said we had to get into 'groups of eight'."

James looked upward, and said acidly: "For some reason he didn't accept Sirius' claim that he was 'amazing enough to be five people'."

"Shocking," Remus agreed. "So now we're stuck here, waiting for four more poor souls to join our troupe."

"Welcome," said Peter. "We're thinking of names. Thoughts on _The Awesome Squad_?"

"No," said James, Sirius and Remus at once.

"_The Thunderbirds_, then," Peter tried again. "_Red Lightning? _Er, _Peter Pettigrew and the..._ what-the-hell-why-is-she-coming-this-way?"

Sirius made a face. "Okay that last one doesn't even sound like you're trying anymore."

"No..." Peter grabbed Sirius' head and swivelled it around. Everyone followed suit rather indiscreetly to find a dark-haired girl marching sullenly behind Professor McGonagall. It was Rianne Nott, a Slytherin who had been housing a vendetta against Evangeline ever since she had accidentally set her hair on fire during a Charms lesson in second year.

"This is ridiculous," the girl was drawling to McGonagall's back. "I will, of course, be reporting back to my mother..."

"Oh Merlin, please don't let her be in our…" Evangeline's dread-filled voice trailed off as her worst fears were confirmed by McGonagall's next words.

"Miss Nott, I'm sure your mother would be more interested to hear about how you were suspended from camp activities for being unreasonable. This is the only group left, and you'll be joining it whether you like it or not." With that, she swept off, leaving Rianne standing sourly in her wake. The girl took a few deep breaths and then shook her hair out, readjusted her top, and began a hip-swaying walk toward her new teammates.

"Lovely outfit, Hansen," was her greeting.

Evangeline glanced down briefly at her tattered jeans, faded Puddlemere United T-Shirt and zip-up jumper. "It's a _camp, _genius." Her eyes flicked over Rianne's clothing choice. "Though apparently _you _missed that memo."

And indeed, the girl seemed to have missed it by a colossal margin. Her ensemble consisted of a short wool skirt and a strappy top, and along with her one-inch fingernails and two-inch heels, she resembled some mutated version of Stuck-Up Bitch Barbie.

"You do realize we're going to be in the forest, right?" Lily said, looking amused. "Hiking, putting up tents, generally _not _faffing about at a poolside mansion?"

Rianne did not share in the hilarity. She twitched, but otherwise kept her back toward Lily as she replied: "Don't speak to me, Mudblood."

It happened in a split second. Lily watched in astonishment as James, Sirius, Remus and Evangeline whipped out their wands and closed in around Rianne. The girl's jaw dropped in shock as she looked around and found herself surrounded by a circle of hostile faces. She stood stone-still, not daring to move an inch, her breathing uneasy.

"Apologize." James' low voice was dead serious.

Rianne's eyes shifted nervously as her hand drifted toward her pocket.

"Right, I leave you alone for _two seconds...!_" The silent, hatred-charged atmosphere was shattered when Professor McGonagall, with her trouble-spotting sixth sense, spotted the brewing conflict. She rushed over, screeching for them to lower their wands.

"I don't know what happened, Professor!" Rianne gasped, playing the victim card for all it was worth. "They tried to hex me for no reason at all! Probably just because I'm in Slytherin…"

Around her, there were so many scoffs that it sounded as though a cat was coughing up an extremely large fur ball somewhere in the vicinity. McGonagall just gave them a look as if to say _explain yourselves_.

"She's bloody lying, for a start," James said angrily.

"We were provoked," Remus added, narrowing his eyes in Rianne's direction.

The Slytherin girl took note of the fact that she was severely outnumbered and adopted a sour expression. "It was just a misunderstanding."

Her words provoked an outraged response from everyone in the group, who spoke overtop of one another, turning their arguments into an incomprehensible jumble of words.

"That's enough!" Professor McGonagall's harsh tone cut through the babble, and was met with silence. "I would like to hear from Miss Evans. She's the only one who has remained silent while the rest of you blabber away."

Lily's throat went dry. While she didn't like to make a habit of lying, she had to admit that sometimes it was the best option. In this case, there was no reason to cause a fuss about nothing; it wasn't the first time she'd been called a Mudblood. What did it really matter? "It was nothing," she said, avoiding everyone's eyes. "Just like she said. A misunderstanding."

"What?" James' outraged cry came the loudest from beside her. "It wasn't nothing, professor. She called Lily a Mud- OW!"

He turned to face Lily, his face bearing an expression of hurt and disbelief. Lily glared at him, feeling no remorse at all for having stomped on his foot as hard as she could.

For a moment, there was silence, and then:

"We're ready for the last group!" Professor Flitwick, who had been helping organise the students' departure by portkey, signalled to them from across the courtyard. McGonagall sighed and shook her head, clearly giving up on the situation.

"Whatever is going on between you eight, you'll need to sort it out, and _very _soon. I sincerely hope this incident is not a preview of the next three days."

The moment McGonagall turned her back, Lily rounded on James. "What the hell was that?" she hissed, looking mutinous.

James was both outraged and confused. "What was _that?_" he asked incredulously. "I think a more appropriate question would be what was _that_!" He jabbed an angry finger toward his injured foot.

"You know bloody well what I mean, Potter. I don't need to you stand up for me all the time."

James made a scoffing sound, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Really, Evans? Because I don't see how lying to McGonagall actually solved anything. Why didn't you just tell her the truth? What are you afraid of?"

And there it was again. _Evans._ Her surname sounded harsh and impersonal coming from his lips, and Lily bit back a strange feeling of disappointment. She shook her head, trying to formulate a coherent sentence.

"I just… You don't know what it's like to be in my position, so don't pretend you—Oh god, you know what? I don't have to explain myself to you, of all people." She let her eyes linger on him in a hostile stare before turning around and moving to join the others by the portkeys.

Why did he have to be so infuriating? It was as if their relationship was constantly perched haphazardly on a teeter-totter. One minute, they would be getting on just fine, and the next, they would be at each other's throats again. Lily took a deep breath and attempted to put him out of her mind. She resolved to try to avoid speaking to him whenever possible. After all, if they were going to be stuck working together for the next three days, it would probably be best to have as little contact as possible to avoid dispute. _Yes,_ she thought to herself with tenacity. _I can do this._

Two minutes later, the plan had already failed epically. The eight of them were crowded around a tattered newspaper, jostling around to try and find a comfortable position in the cramped space. Lily ended up squashed in beside Evangeline, with none other than James pressed up against her back. Not only could she not get him out of her mind; he was the _only _thing in her mind. He was standing so close that she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck as he crouched down slightly to reach the portkey. His arm reached over her shoulder, and his clean, boy-soapy smell was all around her. If she turned her head, she would find her face within inches of his. Her mind screamed for her to shift away from his presence, but her body somehow refused to budge.

"All right, on the count of three then." Lily was exceedingly grateful when Flitwick's squeak of a voice broke her out of her trance. She diverted her attention from the heat radiating from James' body and focused instead on the imminent transportation. The fine hairs on her arms prickled in anticipation as the Charms professor counted down to their departure.

"Three, two—"

"TO THE GREAT WHITE NORTH!" Sirius shouted overtop of the professor, striking a heroic pose seconds before the portkey activated. Lily laughed at his antics despite herself, caught up in the excitement of the moment, and before she knew it, the sprawling expanse of Hogwarts Castle had disappeared in a swirling mass of colour as they spun in a breathless whirlwind toward the unknown.

Moments later, she felt her feet slam into the earth with a thud. The first thing she noticed in her state of temporary dizziness was the cold air and its unique smell—like campfires, evergreens and autumn leaves. They were standing upon a rocky ridge which overlooked a glassy, curiously star-shaped lake. The pebbly bank was covered in weeping willows and pines that gradually thickened to a dense forest surrounding the clearing. Lily's jaw dropped at the magical sight. Around her, the others were stumbling to their feet or staring, as she was, at the impressive scenery.

"Now that we've all arrived," Wolfe barked, business-like as ever. "I'd like to get started as quickly as possible. We're already a little behind schedule. The groups you arrived with will be your groups for the next three days, so I hope you have all selected people with whom you work well, as your success on this camp will be based around your ability to cooperate as a team."

Lily glanced to her left and saw that the Marauders had already regrouped and were in the process of charming rocks to fly into Severus Snape's bag, whilst Rianne leaned uninterestedly against a large tree and examined her nails. She exchanged a silent look of despair with Isabelle and Evangeline.

"In a moment, I will give each group a packet of necessities for today's activities, and you will be free to go. A word of caution, though: due to the delicate state of this national park, we have set up specific boundaries in which you must remain. A barrier has been created to ensure the protection of the surrounding wildlife. You will be unable to use magic outside of this designated region, so do _not _stray from the boundaries, unless you wish to be immediately sent back to school."

As a hum of excited chatter broke out amongst the students in the clearing, Professor Wolfe approached their group. "Interesting," he muttered, his eyes skimming across the pick-and-mix of faces in front of him. "This," he told them, handing two rolls of parchment and an odd-looking diagram to Sirius, "is everything you'll need for today's work. You will be the group leader, Mr Black."

His words were met with a loud whoop from Sirius and a collective groan of disapproval from everyone else. Wolfe made a point of ignoring this response.

"You are to use the map I've given you to navigate your way through the surrounding forest. There have been stations set up along the way, where you must complete the activity specified on the instruction sheet. All the information you need is in here." He tapped one of the scrolls in Sirius' outstretched hand. "We will be meeting back in this area to set up the camp just before sunset. Any questions? No? Good. You may begin." And with that, he paced away to the next group, leaving them standing in an awkward, vaguely circular formation.

"Right, so… who wants to navigate?" Sirius asked brightly, obviously keen to hand the job over to someone else.

"Yeah, nice try," Lily scoffed. "You're the leader, so lead us."

Sirius looked crestfallen. He turned to Peter with a hopeful expression on his face and held out the map. "Wormtail…"

Peter actually began to reach for it, but Remus ripped it away from him and thrust it back into Sirius' hands. "Stop trying to pawn your job off on Wormtail," he said. "And stop being such a pushover, Pete."

While Peter rolled his eyes, Sirius glanced at Remus' stern face and finally relented, sighing and unfurling the map as though it contained some sort of a death sentence.

"Right, so… says here we're on the border of Celestial Lake right now, but we want to be…" He screwed up his face and muttered to himself, jabbing his finger at a random spot on the map, "…here! At that little clearing beside Whisky Falls…" Trailing off again, he frowned, a look of reminiscence slowly spreading across his face. "Hang on, these places all sound really familiar. I could swear I've been here before."

"That's because you have." Evangeline's voice was so soft that it was almost as if she hadn't intended anyone to hear. In fact, she probably hadn't, because the moment the words escaped her mouth, her eyes went wide and she looked around, acting as though she hadn't said anything. Sirius' swerved around to face her, his mouth slightly open in shock. "What?" She babbled. "I mean… I… you… my… your family… came here… a long time ago… holiday…" Her words made no sense whatsoever to anyone else, but something seemed to click Sirius' mind, because his eyes became very wide.

Rianne seemed to feel that the best way to disperse the tension was to bring everyone's attention back to her. "Well obviously he's been to Celestial Lake," she said, rolling her eyes as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's only the most popular Canadian touring destination in the wizarding world. Myfamily has two holiday homes just a couple of kilometres away."

"Congratulations," Lily muttered.

"Alright, come on Padfoot," James cut in, nodding toward the now-empty clearing. "Let's get going. Everyone else has already left."

Sirius was still slightly out of it. "What? Oh, yeah." He shook his head, as if to clear it, and then glanced down at the scroll of parchment again.

"Which way?" Peter inquired, craning his neck to look at the map.

Sirius brushed him off impatiently. "Get your fat head out of the way, mate. Which way's North again? Never mind. It's… that way!" He pointed randomly toward a thick cluster of trees to their right. "I think."

Lily clapped a hand to her forehead and exchanged a hopeless glance with Isabelle.

"We're doomed."

* * *

"We already passed that tree ten minutes ago!"

"No we didn't! Don't be thick, Prongs." Sirius dispelled James' complaint airily, ignoring the seven angry faces surrounding him.

"He's right, Sirius. You're leading us around in circles!" Lily flung her hands up in annoyance.

"He didn't listen the last twenty-seven times we tried to tell him, and he won't listen now," muttered Remus, glaring at their leader's back. For the what seemed like the millionth time, he said: "Let me see the map, Padfoot."

But Sirius wouldn't hear of it. He dodged Remus' outstretched hands and glanced up at him, annoyed. "_I'm _the leader, Moony," he reminded him.

"Well, you suck at it. It's time to hand over the map to someone who might actually be competent," snapped Evangeline, who had been in a horrible mood ever since the strange event back in the clearing.

"Oh sod off, Hansen."

"Please, Sirius." Isabelle sounded desperate. "We've been wandering around for at least an hour and a half, and we haven't even made it to the first station yet."

"For the last time, I know what I'm doing!" Sirius half-shouted, then began to march purposely back in the direction they had come from. He brushed past a confused Rianne and Peter, who had been lagging behind (Rianne had developed several large blisters from her shoes and Peter had offered gallantly to hang back with her).

"He's impossible," Remus said faintly.

"Get back here, Sirius!" Lily shouted. She let out a frustrated noise when he failed to obey her. "This is ridiculous!" she said, mildly hysterical. "We're all going to fail!"

"You mean the perfect little Head Girl might _actually_ get less than one hundred percent for once in her life?" Rianne remarked snidely.

"SHUT UP!" roared Remus, James and Eva at the same time.

Remus took a deep breath. "That's it," he growled, taking off after Sirius at a sprint. The rest of the group followed, weaving through the labyrinth of trees until they had caught up to him. He was stalking around an unfamiliar landscape with dead grass and rotten bits of wood littering the ground. Lily noted an old, peeling sign and suddenly had an ominous feeling in her chest, as though something was very wrong. The others, however, seemed oblivious.

"Give me the map, Sirius," Remus commanded, a determined glint in his eyes.

Sirius turned around. "I think I've figured it out," he told them earnestly. "If we just—"

But they never found out what he was going to say because at that moment, a loud, shrill scream erupted from behind them and Peter came barrelling forward, brushing himself off furiously and jumping around as though he was being attacked by a swarm of bees.

"What the…" James trailed off and his jaw dropped in alarm as he suddenly noticed the gaping wooden pit a few metres to their left.

It was almost as though it happened in slow motion. Everyone watched in horror as Peter stumbled blindly into Isabelle, knocking her straight into Remus' chest and causing him to stagger backward in surprise. Three steps back were all it took. His foot sunk down into nothingness and he keeled over the edge, bringing Isabelle down with him.

"No!" screamed Lily, rushing forward.

But it was too late. Isabelle and Remus disappeared over the edge, and a high-pitched scream echoed throughout the forest before fading away into nothingness.

* * *

**A/N: **So, notes on this chapter… The drama begins! I had fun writing this one, but I think Chapter Eight will be even better! And, just randomly, has anyone else noticed that Isabelle seems to have a strange habit of chucking clothes around everywhere? :P

Massive hugs to all of my lovely reviewers!

-Liz


	8. Miles from Normal

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Miles from Normal**

Isabelle's mind hadn't even registered what was happening until she hit the ground with a jarring impact and felt a sudden, searing pain in her left arm. She had landed on something uneven and fairly warm, which twitched when she shifted her weight.

"Remus!" she gasped, sitting up with a horrible sinking feeling as she took in his motionless figure. In the dim light, she could make out a surface wound on his forehead that was smeared with blood. To her immense relief, he lifted his head and sat up with a quiet groan.

"Isabelle?" His voice was strained and unsure. "What hap… happened?"

"I'm not… I don't know. We fell into some sort of pit, I think." Her words echoed strangely in the dank atmosphere.

Remus lifted a hand to his brow and grimaced when his fingers felt the sticky blood seeping into his hair. "I think I hit my head," he muttered. "I feel sort of… dizzy."

Isabelle's brow furrowed in concern. "Let me see," she commanded, barely noticing the way her usual reserved self seemed to vanish in a crisis. She rose to her knees and brushed his hair away from the cut. Head level with his, she met his eyes for a moment and felt her heart jolt.

Remus sucked in a breath. "Is it bad?"

"It's not very deep…" Her eyes moved back and forth over the injury. "It looks like you've just grazed it on something. Are you sure you're okay otherwise? You took the brunt of the fall…"

"Nah, I'm fine. The soil sort of cushioned the landi—Oh, _Merlin_. Your arm!" Remus let out a strangled noise as his eyes trailed down to her shoulder.

"What?" Alarmed and suddenly terrified, Isabelle followed his gaze to her left bicep. She almost retched at what she saw; her sleeve was torn and there was a long, undeniably deep gash right below her shoulder. It was pouring out blood at a rate that was frankly astonishing.

As though in slow motion, Isabelle turned to the site of her fall and saw the glint of something metallic sticking out of the ground. "Oh..." Her head was spinning.

"Just… don't move, okay? Hang on. I'm not great at healing charms or anything, but…" Remus fished around in his pocket with trembling fingers and extracted his wand, clearing his throat to say: "_Mendio."_

There was a choked sort of sound as the tip emitted a weak flash of gold sparks. Neither of them had ever seen anything like it before.

"What the…?" Remus said, giving it a shake and trying again. It was hopeless, like someone had put cling wrap over the end of the wand and the spell was unable to escape. As the crinkles in Remus' brow reach mountainous proportions and Isabelle felt herself become light-headed to the point of seeing black dots, something seemed to click in the boy's mind. "Of course," Remus breathed, clapping a hand to his head. "_Ow_. Bugger." He sucked in a breath, applying pressure to the bruise he had just aggravated. "We must be out of bounds. No magic... Cor blimey, I am going to _kill _Sirius..."

Isabelle tried to reply, but her entire body seemed to be made of feathers and dust... or stars. Could people be made of stars? There was a vague ripping noise from beside her; it seemed that Remus had torn off the sleeve of his jacket. "What are you doing?" she asked dazedly.

Instead of answering, Remus took her arm and wound the fabric around it, pulling it gently but firmly and tying it off to create a sort of makeshift pressure bandage.

"Is that too tight?" he asked, pushing a hand haphazardly through his hair in a very un-Remus-like gesture. "I saw that in the back of Sirius' Muggle Studies textbook once. Not sure I've done it properly, like, at all..."

Isabelle glanced down at the blood-stained fabric, then back up at Remus. Finally, she seemed to locate her voice. "No, it's fine—really, it's… thanks." She offered him a grateful half-smile. "It's weird, it doesn't even hurt."

"Really?" Remus shot her an incredulous look. "Right, well the main thing is to stop the bleeding, I think. Once we get out of here…" He paused mid-sentence, and there was a long moment of silence where the horrible reality of their situation seemed to sink in.

Isabelle frowned, choosing her words carefully. "But without magic…" _How will we get back up there?_ The unspoken truth hung heavily in the damp air.

For the first time, their gazes trailed upwards to find a dizzying vista of crumbling dirt walls and jutting rocks. They were at the bottom of a crudely dug hole which spanned up for at least seven metres before opening into a patch of grey sky.

"Good god," Remus whispered. "What _is_ this pla—"

"Wait," Isabelle cut in, straightening slightly. "Do you hear that?"

Sure enough, a faint shouting sound could be heard from above. And there was no mistaking who that angry voice belonged to.

* * *

"A _butterfly?_"

Sirius' incredulous tone carried across the desolate landscape as he gaped at Peter with a mixture of disbelief and anger on his face. "Are you _kidding_me, Wormtail?"

Peter hung his head and spoke in a muted voice without looking up. "I—I thought it was a hornet."

Sirius shook his head slowly, as though he couldn't come up with an appropriate response. Wordlessly, with a disappointed look in Peter's direction, he turned away.

Behind him, Lily, Evangeline and James were kneeling around the mouth of the pit, trying to assess the damage.

"Isabelle!" Lily called hysterically, leaning over the edge as far as she dared. The silence following her shout magnified her shallow breathing to ten times its normal volume as she waited in desperation for some kind of a response.

Evangeline's worry had a tendency to morph into anger. She gritted her teeth. "Oh, sod it, Isa! Answer us!"

"Remus! Are you alright?" James projected his voice as loudly as possible, then waited anxiously, jaw set, for a reply.

The silence was unbearable. Lily bit her lip, trying not to assume the worst.

Luckily, James was remaining relatively level-headed. "Okay, on the count of three, we all call them." He glanced up at his group mates, seeking their consent, and received a round of grim nods. "One, two, three…"

"ISABELLE! REMUS!" The combined force of their voices created an elusive echo in the woods and sent a flock of birds scattering noisily into the sky from a nearby tree.

Lily nearly fainted from relief when a quiet, blessedly familiar voice carried up to them from below.

"We're alright." Remus' two word reply pierced the balloon of tension that had built up among them like a needle. "But… hurt… can't use magic… find help…"

Lily was only able to distinguish half of what he was saying, but it was enough to get a grasp on the seriousness of the situation. She turned to face James and had just opened her mouth when a dangerously angry voice intruded on their panic.

"Thanks for waiting up, you lot." Rianne had emerged from the verdure, swatting a branch out of her face and looking royally pissed off.

In all the chaos, Lily had almost forgotten about her. Apparently, so had everyone else.

"Remus? We're going to try and get help. Just… stay put." James stood up slowly, his mind clearly working to devise a plan of action.

Rianne watched him rise and made a face as her eyes followed his form upward. "Why are you all staring down a hole like it holds the bloody secrets of the universe? Where are Lupin and what's-her-face?"

"Isabelle," Evangeline corrected her flatly.

James sighed impatiently. "Look, long story short: there's been an accident, someone's hurt and we're out of bounds, so we can't use magic." Lily noticed that he left out the bit about Peter pushing them. Oddly compassionate.

For once, Rianne seemed to be at a loss for words. "Wait… _what_?"

James, meanwhile, was already pacing back and forth, issuing orders. "We need to split up," he announced. " You three—" He gestured towards Sirius, Rianne and Evangeline, "—try to get back within the boundaries and find Wolfe."

Instantaneously, all three of them opened their mouths to retort.

"No, shut it," James cut them off. "You're the only ones who've been here before. You've got a better chance of finding him than the rest of us."

"I was _literally _seven years old," Sirius pointed out.

James' expression remained stony. "I know, mate, but it's the best shot we have."

"And me?" Peter asked, stepping forward with a expression of determination on his round face.

James contemplated his request. "You stay here with me and Lily," he finally decided, and Peter nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"Right." Sirius reopened the map, wasting no time. "Come on, you two." And with that, he set off into the thicket of trees, Evangeline and Rianne pausing for a fleeting second before twitching to action.

As the cracking sound of their footsteps faded away, Lily lowered herself shakily to the leaf-covered ground. She drew her knees to her chest and shivered in the chilly autumn air, blinking back surprise when James followed suit and dropped down next to her. There was total silence for a few minutes as the pair of them stared forward with bleak eyes.

"It's a mineshaft," Lily said in a hollow voice.

James looked over, clasping his hands together over the caps of his bent knees. "What?"

"The pit," Lily elaborated, nodding ahead, "It's got half a steel grating over it. There're bits of barbed wire everywhere. Definitely an old mine site."

James squinted his eyes a little, moving his mouth to the side, and Lily realized that she was speaking to a boy who had probably never left the magical confines of the wizarding world in his life.

"Right, never mind. Muggle thing."

A gust of wind scattered orange leaves across the ground. One of them stuck to James' sweater.

"I knew this was going to happen," he said as he pulled it off, laying it flat in the palm of his hand and then using his thumb and forefinger to flick it away.

Now, it was Lily's turn to be mildly bewildered. She looked over at James. His face was lit up by the warm hues of the autumn sun and the wind was tugging gently at his dark hair. Good lord, when had he gotten so attractive?

"You're a right seer then, aren't you?" she said blandly. "Ring up Trelawney, I'll fetch my crystal ball."

James gave her a look of exasperation over his shoulder. "I just had this feeling," he clarified. "I mean, I s'pose it doesn't take a genius, does it? You, Me, Sirius, Evangeline, with the added bonus of Nott… It's essentially a fool-proof recipe for disaster." He let out a sort of humourless laugh.

Something about his reaction rubbed Lily the wrong way. "How can you take this so lightly?" she demanded. "This isn't some stupid prank. This is _real._"

"Oi, I didn't mean it like that." James looked taken aback. "Just trying to lighten the atmosphere... or something."

"_Lighten the atmosphere_? My best mate's just fallen ten metres down a mineshaft, Potter. There is a very significant chance that we are severely screwed. Don't you dare try to _lighten_ the bloody atmosphere." To her horror, her voice cracked on the last word.

James stared at her for a few seconds, pupils dilated behind his glasses. "Lily, look at me," he said.

"What?"

"Look at me."

Lily, breathing very rapidly after her outburst, slowly raised her head until she met his eyes.

"They _are_going to be fine," James said.

Lily's voice suddenly felt thick in the back of her throat. "Are they?"

The wind picked up again, and Peter's voice floated over on a gust of leaves and forest musk. "It's all my fault," he said dejectedly, taking a seat next to James. "If anything had happened to them, I would have... I'd have... I probably would've killed myself."

James turned his head sharply. "Never say that again, mate," he warned. "Could've happened to any of us, couldn't it've?"

His head resting moodily on his crossed arms and bent knees, Peter hardly looked convinced.

"Nobody blames you, Peter," Lily added.

That, for whatever reason, got a small smile out of him. "Thanks, Lily," he said. "I wonder how the others are going…"

* * *

"Would you two _slow down_? This isn't a bloody race!"

Evangeline and Sirius both came to an abrupt halt from their almost-jog and glared back at Rianne, who was lagging behind… _again._

"Look, Nott." Sirius was clenching his fists and clearly straining to address her in a civil tone. "In case you hadn't realized, it's late afternoon, and the sun is going to be setting in a couple of hours. So unless you _want_to be lollygagging through the woods in total darkness, I suggest you shut it and move your feet."

Evangeline opened her mouth to agree with him, realized what she was doing, and then closed it immediately with a glare in Sirius' direction for good measure. Her mind was having a hard time dealing with this situation; she bloody hated Rianne, but agreeing with Sirius was akin to one of Trelawney's predictions coming true: it just wasn't going to happen. Ever.

Instead of taking sides, she exhaled impatiently and scowled at both of them. "We're wasting time," she said, ripping the map out of Sirius' hands and opening it with a hard flourish.

"Oi, give that back!" Sirius swiped a hand through the air, missing the parchment by several inches. "I know what I'm doing."

Evangeline let out an incredulous choking sound. "It's funny, I could've sworn I'd heard you say that before, and look where that's wound us up."

Sirius' eyes became stormy. "Stop acting as though you could have done a better job."

"A _flobberworm _could have done a better job!" Evangeline shouted, clawing a stray strand of hair out of her face furiously.

Sirius' features contorted in rage. "GIVE ME THE MAP!"

"NO!"

With a grunt, Sirius reached out and managed to curl his fist tightly around the corner of the parchment, crumpling it beneath his fingers. He yanked hard, but Evangeline wouldn't have it. Her hands were securely locked around the other half, causing them to start a sort of tug-of-war.

"Stop it! You're going to—"

A noise like a band saw filled the air and both Evangeline and Sirius went stumbling backwards, each clutching a severed piece of the map. Eva's shoulder blade rammed into a tree, but she barely noticed. She stared down at the torn fragment in her hands, horror-struck. "Look what you did!" she shrieked, brandishing it at Sirius.

He was still gaping at the tattered section clamped in his fist. "_Me?_ If you hadn't stolen it in the first place—"

"Stolen?" Evangeline wore a thunderous expression. "It doesn't belong to y—"

"SHUT UP!"

This surprisingly loud outburst came from Rianne, who was looking between the two of them with a blatant display of disgust. "What is _wrong_with you two?"

Evangeline and Sirius were glaring at each other with such hatred that if looks could kill, both would have been reduced to piles of ashes before you could say 'Avada Kedavra". Then, out of the blue, Sirius' mutinous scowl morphed into a less severe frown, and he let out a sigh. "This is stupid," he muttered.

Evangeline's eyebrows quirked in surprise, and she raised her head to stare at him in confusion.

"Here's an idea. Why don't you two kids give _me_the map," Rianne suggested, placing her hands on her hips, "and then maybe we'll actually get somewhere."

"Not likely," Sirius and Evangeline chorused in varying degrees of outrage. Sirius shielded his segment protectively while Evangeline scrunched her nose up in the aftermath of their semi-agreement. She simply couldn't cope with this.

For a moment, it seemed as though Sirius might say something, but as he opened his mouth to speak, his features contorted. "Eugh. What's that smell?"

There _was_ a decidedly pungent odour in the air, now he mentioned it—like a dead animal crossed with really dirty socks—and it seemed to be increasing in strength by the second.

"Oh," Evangeline said faintly, raising the sleeve of her jumper to cover her noise.

"That's... sick-making," Rianne managed. "What kind of a—"

Her words were drowned out by a tremendous cracking sound, followed by a ground-shaking tremor as a tree toppled somewhere nearby.

Evangeline's head snapped up in horror and Sirius' eyes widened. Rianne screamed.

"What the hell was that?" hissed the Slytherin girl, inching closer to the others in fright. Evangeline couldn't have responded even if she'd wanted to; she seemed to be paralyzed. Rianne got her answer anyway when another tree fell over, narrowly missing Sirius, and an enormously lumpy, grey mass thumped down in front of them.

All at once, they raised the heads and found themselves staring at the ugly, misshapen and clearly enraged face of what was unmistakeably a woodland troll.

"It's okay," Sirius murmured. "Trolls are really stupid. If we just stand still and try not to make any—"

Rianne let out a horrific scream.

"—noise," he finished lamely as the troll grunted and looked down at them, tilting its head to the side.

Nobody breathed. For one glorious moment, it made to turn around and they thought it had decided they weren't a threat. Not two seconds later, however, the beast heaved an almighty roar and raised its club above its lumpy head. Rianne whimpered in fright.

"Eva! Look out!"

At the sound of Sirius' frantic warning, Evangeline turned her head just in time to see the club swing down and hurtle straight toward her. Wait a second… _Eva? _Feeling inexplicably thrown, all she could seem to do was stand stock still and wait for the troll's weapon to make contact.

Something struck her, knocking her breath out, but it definitely wasn't a club. She hit the ground with something heavy pinning her down, and when she opened her eyes, it became apparent that the something was Sirius. He had shoved her roughly to the ground and was now shielding her frame with his body as the troll smashed a tree to smithereens behind them. His face was so close that his jagged breaths were fanning her neck.

Almost reflexively, Evangeline placed both hands on his well-defined chest and shoved. Hard. "Get_off_! What the hell are you doing?"

Sirius didn't need to be told twice. In the blink of an eye, he was already on his feet and staring down at her with an expression that was impossible to read. Evangeline stood up slowly, rubbing her hip in a circular motion, and opened her mouth to fire off at him some more, but she faltered when she saw his face. He was surveying her with an almost defeated look in his eyes, as though he was waiting for her inevitable retaliation.

At that moment, Rianne let out a hysterical scream and both Evangeline and Sirius whipped around to see her hanging about eight metres above the ground, clamped in the troll's enormous fist and looking as white as the Bloody Baron. The troll was examining her cautiously, its tiny eyes squinted in confusion.

"Let go of me you great bloody oaf!" Rianne was screeching, pounding her captor's hand with her fists. Her protests did little to deter the troll; if anything, she only managed to further enrage it. Finally, she gave up and wailed "HELP!" at the top of her lungs.

Without pausing to think about what she was doing, Evangeline let out a loud shout, sprinted forward and took a flying leap at the club that was hanging by the creature's side. She managed to latch her arms around the knobbly wood and was immediately propelled upwards as she hung on for dear life. When the movement stopped, she snuck a glance down and gasped. She was almost level with the treetops, hair aflutter in the chill of the wind. Sirius was shouting something from below, but she couldn't distinguish his words.

The next thing she knew, she was being jerked violently back and forth and had to tighten her grip around the club to avoid falling to her doom. The troll was endeavouring to shake her off as though she was some sort of irritating insect.

If Evangeline could have punched herself at that moment, she would have. _Great thinking, genius. What the hell are you going to do now?_

But then she saw the troll's boulder-like head and had an idea. Slowly inching down the club, she waited until the opportune moment and then… she let go.

She was only airborne for a second before hitting the creature's hard skull and wrapping her legs securely around its neck. If she could just distract it for long enough, it might forget about Rianne…

"Let go of her!" she shrieked, reaching her arms out and shoving them over the troll's eyes. It let out a series of furious grunts and stumbled blindly forward. Evangeline noticed Sirius leap out of the way of a footfall below.

"Catch her when she falls!" she shouted to him, referring to Rianne, who was still being held captive in the troll's fist.

Sirius stared up in confusion "What?" he yelled back.

"CATCH HER!"

As if on cue, the troll's grip slackened and Rianne tumbled down, where Sirius managed to sort of half-catch her with a loud 'oof!' before they both fell to the ground. Evangeline felt a moment of satisfaction before coming to the realisation that while Rianne was safely on the ground, _she_was still hanging twenty feet in the air atop a vicious troll.

Damn. She knew she'd been forgetting something.

She didn't have long to ponder this dilemma. With a roar of cosmic proportions, the troll reached up, seized her in his fist, and flung her into the air.

It only took a couple seconds for her to hit the ground, but she did so with considerable force. Her fall had been slowed by the six tree branches she'd hit on the way down, but the loud cracking sound that came from her leg upon impact indicated that it had caused serious damage nonetheless.

The troll, who had smashed into a thick tree in its state of blindness, swayed drunkenly for a few seconds before falling, as if in slow motion, and crashing to the ground a few metres away.

From where she lay on the forest floor, Evangeline could hear Rianne moaning loudly about one of her shoes, from which the heel had evidently snapped. She sat up quickly, orange leaves stuck in her hair, and found herself staring straight into Sirius' face.

She sucked in a huge breath of air. "What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" she croaked. She had meant for it to be an insult, but the words came out sounding sort weirdly friendly. Sirius raised his eyebrows.

Cringing, Evangeline pushed herself to her feet… and immediately went crashing back to the ground again with a gasp of pain. "_Shite!"_ she cried. With a sense of foreboding, she reached out and rolled the leg of her jeans up past her knee.

The flesh in the middle of her shin had turned a mottled purple colour and there was something skewed about the way her leg was positioned. "Broken…" she muttered to herself, feeling incredibly stupid. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she rose shakily to her feet, favouring her uninjured leg. "Right, let's go."

Sirius gaped at her as though she had suddenly grown an extra head. "Are you mad? You can't walk on that!"

Evangeline glared back at him. "Don't have much of a choice, do I? Besides, I _can_ walk on it." She took a weird hop-step thing to prove her point.

"No," Sirius said, shaking his head. "Stop. Nott!"

Rianne, who had been mourning the death of her shoes on the other side of the clearing, snapped: "What?"

"Let Hansen lean on you. We're sitting ducks otherwise."

Rianne sent a very condescending look over to Evangeline, who was leaning against a tree, and then laughed coldly. "No thank you."

"I just saved your life, you ungrateful twat," Evangeline said in disbelief.

"Right. And did I ask for your help?"

Eva barked out something that may have been a laugh. "Yeah, actually, if I remember correctly you were screaming and in _tears—_"

"I'm sorry, I don't touch blood traitors. You're on your own."

"You're disgusting," Sirius said, his voice deep and full of antipathy.

"Oh, don't act so high and mighty, Black," said Rianne, inspecting her chipped nails. "You're not exactly volunteering yourself for the task either."

He paused for a second, staring straight at Rianne, and then stuck out his arm to wrap around Evangeline's middle and pull her away from the tree. She stumbled into his side, dumbstruck, and allowed him to place her arm around his shoulders and support her weight.

"Look," Sirius said gruffly. "I don't know about you two, but I'm doing this to help our mates. Can we stop fighting for a few minutes and get a move on, _please_?"

Neither Rianne nor Evangeline responded, and he took this to mean that they consented (though in Eva's case it could probably be attributed to the fact that she was still in a Sirius-induced state of shock).

"Where's the map?" Sirius carried on.

Evangeline's hand swung down to her pockets and she awkwardly fished around, hip jutting into Sirius' side.

"Here's part of it." Rianne was holding up Sirius' half, which she had picked up off of the ground.

They both looked at Evangeline expectantly.

"I had it before," she said. "Before... all that." A hand was waved limply in the direction of the unconscious troll. "I must have dropped it or something."

"'S got to be around here somewhere," Sirius reasoned. They spent the next five or so minutes conducting an awkward search of the surrounding forest. Unfortunately, the map was nowhere to be found.

"Brilliant," Evangeline said dully. "That's brilliant."

There was a muffled grunt from the pile of troll. The ground rumbled as it shifted slightly in a ruckus of crackling branches.

"Shit," Sirius said, backing away slowly. Evangeline, pressed against his side, followed suit.

"What about the other piece of the map?" hissed Rianne. She had already escaped to the other side of the clearing.

Sirius paused for a moment with a grim expression. "We'll just have to do without it. C'mon, let's go, before Lardass wakes up."

* * *

Isabelle felt like screaming.

It wasn't because her arm, which for the first while had merely felt numb, was now throbbing excruciatingly with an intensity that was impossible to block out.

I wasn't even because the temperature in the cavern had rapidly decreased in the past hour as night fell, leaving the air icy cold and biting against her skin.

It was because of Remus Lupin.

They had been trapped for coming up on four hours now, and after the initial scrabble to take care of their injuries, he had become oddly silent and standoffish. Currently, he was crunched up against the wall opposite her, leaning back on it with his arms wrapped around his knees and his eyes firmly closed. He almost looked as though he was in some sort of agony; his brow creased and his knuckles clearly straining with the strength of his grip on his legs.

Isabelle, in an act of concern, had worked up the courage to ask him if he was feeling alright about an hour ago. She had merited nothing but a snappy "Fine," in return. Needless to say, she was incredibly confused… and a little bit hurt.

Now, as the small patch of sky above thickened to an inky black colour, the diluted daylight had all but disappeared. Around them, the air temperature had dropped to about minus a bazillion degrees, and every now and then there would be a skin-crawling sensation of small legs against exposed flesh. In the dark, Isabelle's mind began concocting images of gruesomely large spiders and writhing earth worms. It was, essentially, her own personal hell.

When something went whizzing by the side of her face, she jumped aside and let out a squeak, heart racing. Sounds of movement across from her told her that Remus, too, had stirred.

"I imagine you need these more than we do." Lily's muffled, yet unmistakeably anxious, voice floated down from above. She'd been checking in on them every twenty minutes religiously. "Is everything still alright?"

"Thanks. Fine, yeah." Isabelle's voice was scratchy from lack of use. With the assurance that the flying object had not been a monstrous cockroach-cricket, she began searching on hands and knees. There was nothing but cold, damp soil beneath her wandering palms, until suddenly she set her hand on something warm and felt her nose ram into soft skin. "Sorry!" she gasped, realizing that she had collided with Remus.

She felt him retract slightly. "S'okay," he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Suddenly, Isabelle was thanking the heavy darkness for its powers of concealment; she could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. As she moved backwards, something soft caught under her kneecap.

"It's a jacket," she breathed, shaking out the bundle of fabric. "There's another one here—wait… and another one."

Suddenly, she found herself confronted with a very awkward situation.

"Um… Remus?" she asked tentatively. She heard a rustle from somewhere to her right. "You should take one… it's really only going to get colder."

"Yeah, thanks. Er… where are you?"

"I don't think I'm very far away. One tick, I'll try to just—Oh!" She had bumped into him yet again. Remus reached out his arms and ended up grasping the tops of her shoulders near her neck. His breath tickled her nose, and her own faded away at the sensation. "Um, here," she reached up to press one of the jumpers against his hand, which fumbled away from her collarbone and latched onto the offering.

"Thanks," he said again, before letting out a deep breath. "Hey, I'm sorry if I seem a little… off right now. It's nothing personal. I've just been a bit ill lately… Not feeling the greatest."

Isabelle got the distinct impression that he was leaving something out, but he sounded so down that she couldn't hold it against him. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Nah, it's nothing really… probably be gone in a couple days. I mean, as long as we're not still trapped here tomorrow night... Or, well, as long as we're not lost for too long, I meant..." He trailed off with an uneasy laugh. "Freezing down here, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I reckon it's almost below zero," Isabelle agreed, a sudden shiver passing through her. "Did you want another jumper? They threw down three."

Remus was quick to decline. "No, you should have it."

"Seriously," Isabelle insisted. "If you're unwell, you should take it. I'm f-fine."

"That sounded suspiciously like teeth chattering," Remus said, and then surprised her by grabbing her wrist. "You liar! You're freezing."

Isabelle couldn't seem to put together a sentence. All her attention was focused on his grip on her arm. It was as though his fingers were searing her flesh. "You're warm," she murmured before she could stop herself.

Remus seemed to contemplate something and then, without warning, he pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms snugly around her, enveloping her in a wave of heat. `

For a moment, Isabelle was so stunned that she might as well have been Petrificus totalused. Very cautiously, so as not to agitate her wound, she lifted her arms and enclosed them around his back.

"Better?" Remus whispered in her ear.

She could only nod against his chest as his body heat flowed through her like a furnace. Beside them, the jumpers lay forgotten on the damp earthen ground.

* * *

Lily paced the length of the darkening clearing for the umpteenth time, biting her nails anxiously.

Torture; that's what this was.

If there was one thing Lily hated most, it was feeling useless. Unfortunately, that was precisely the word that described her current state. James and Peter seemed to have accepted long ago that there was nothing they could do, and had sat down on the pebbly ground two hours earlier with defeated slumps to their posture.

Not Lily, though. Over the past four hours, she had formulated a routine of sorts. First, she would check on Isabelle and Remus (just to make sure they were still conscious, or something). Then, she would slowly scan the perimeter of the clearing to check for the return of the other three. There had already been two false alarms; first, when what she thought had been Sirius had turned out to be a surprisingly large squirrel rushing through the bushes, and the second (she was starting to become slightly delusional out of desperation) when it had been a pinecone falling from a tree.

Needless to say, she feared she was beginning to lose her sanity.

She could only pray that Sirius and the others would miraculously burst out of the undergrowth with Professor Wolfe or someone equally qualified following behind, and this entire ordeal would be joyously over.

"Lily?"

The head girl all but jumped out of her skin at the sudden shout. For a minute, she thought it was Sirius and her spirits lifted as she pictured the others emerging from the bushes with help in tow.

"Lily, where _are_ you?"

Nope, that was Potter. Lily deflated as she was pricked with a sharp spike of disappointment. Why did he sound so anxious?

"Right here," she called, making a face. "Obviously. Are you really that thick—?" As she spun around, a surprisingly dark and unfamiliar landscape greeted her. Everything that had been bathed in twilight not two minutes earlier was suddenly becoming lost in the clutches of evening.

Lily extracted herself from the thicket of trees and retraced her footsteps until she was back in the clearing. Here, the beams from the swollen moon shed a little more light onto the surroundings; she could clearly make out James' tall silhouette standing about five metres away.

"Lily!" he exclaimed, closing the distance between them in record time. "What are you playing at, running off like that?"

"Running off?" Lily scoffed. "I was right around the corner."

James seemed to realize that he sounded ridiculous, because his next words were spoken in a softer, less indignant tone. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'm—It's just really… getting dark. I think we should stay together so we don't get lost."

As much as Lily wanted to retort, she could see his point. "Alright," she agreed, "but..."

She forgot what she had been meaning to say next, but she didn't care, because at that moment, Rianne burst out of the woods.

Seconds later, Sirius emerged with Evangeline leaning heavily against him and wearing an expression of nauseating pain on her dirt-covered face.

Lily waited with bated breath for Professor Wolfe to step out from behind the trees, but the seconds ticked by and still there was no sign of him. In trepidation, she turned her attention to the three others and finally allowed herself to properly examine them. Rianne had collapsed onto the dirt with a quiet groan and Sirius still had Evangeline clamped to his side.

Lily blanched. If Sirius and Evangeline were in such close proximity to one another, something must have been horribly wrong.

James seemed to be having the same train of thought, because he blurted out "What happened?" whilst staring between the two of them in utter disbelief.

"Troll," was all Sirius said. He looked completely exhausted.

"What?" Lily shrieked.

"We managed to get away, but Hansen's gone and broken her leg and we've also lost half of the map. It was getting too dark… we thought it would be best if we just came back and tried again tomorrow." He spoke monotonously, as though the life had been sucked out of him. And, Lily thought, it almost looked as though it had. His hair, usually styled into casual disarray, was thoroughly dishevelled and he had a series of red scratches down one of his arms. Without a word, Evangeline stumbled away from him and clung onto a tree instead.

"You don't think it's still round here, do you? The troll?" Peter queried, having hurried over at the sight of the others.

Sirius shook his head.

"Well, I guess we should just try to get some sleep and then search again tomorrow. Maybe they'll find us before then anyway," James suggested at length.

Lily nodded, but added: "I feel like one of us should stay up in case Isabelle and Remus need anything. Or in case the troll comes back."

"Good idea," James said enthusiastically. "Like guard duty! We'll take turns."

"I'll go first," Lily volunteered without hesitation. "I don't think I could sleep right now anyway."

"Okay then, I'll go next," James replied.

Sirius nodded. "Then me."

"I don't mind going fourth, but I don't know how much help I'll be with this useless thing." Evangeline pointed bitterly to her leg.

Lily shuffled over in concern. "Is there anything we can do? You must be in serious pain."

"Nah, no worries. I'll live."

Lily knew her friend well enough to be aware that this was all an act. "Stop it with the brutal heroism," she said, offering her a shoulder to lean on. "You're allowed to be in pain, you nutter."

Within five minutes, they were all stationed together in a cluster at a safe distance from the edge of the pit and were failing miserably at getting comfortable on the hard ground. Rianne, appalled at the idea of sleeping in the dirt, had scouted the area for a remotely grassy patch and was now curled up into a ball, looking miserable. Peter, James, Sirius, and even Evangeline were sprawled out carelessly on the ground in that teenage boy sort of way. Eva, however, had her injured leg resting awkwardly on a flat stone.

Lily, who had taken her position as guard, gazed up at the round face of the moon for a bit and then let her eyes trail over to the five motionless bodies on the ground. Suddenly feeling very small and alone, she pulled her legs to her chest and let out a small sigh.

* * *

Evangeline held her breath and counted to ten, hoping that by some miracle, it would make the pain go away.

It didn't.

She released the air from her lungs in annoyance. Her leg was throbbing like crazy, and her shin was so swollen that it was no longer recognisable as an actual human body part; it had become some large, misshapen appendage connected to her knee joint. As ridiculous as it sounded, she had no idea that broken bones could be so painful. Usually, a quick trip to the hospital wing had them mended in minutes, before the damage even had a chance to sink in. This, however, was excruciating.

She had to say, she wasn't a fan.

Sighing, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and tried not to cuss at the twinge shooting through her leg. Trying to get to sleep was proving completely pointless, and in a bid to make herself at least slightly useful, she figured she might as well join whoever was on guard duty. At least it would take her mind off of the pain.

It was only as she was pulling herself into a standing position that she glanced over and saw the unmistakeable outline of Sirius Black's frame huddled at the guard post. Fantastic. Well, that killed that plan.

_Thanks, Black._

Instead of lying back down, she found herself grabbing a stick from the underbrush beside her and twiddling it in her hands. She began to tear the bark off, strip by strip, and the idleness of the whole thing allowed repressed thoughts to surface in her brain.

Black _had_been acting very strangely lately—that much she was aware of—but the full extent of his behaviour hit her like a dull knife to the gut.

I mean, he had sort of… saved her life.

She frowned, shredding a piece of bark into tiny pieces. No, that couldn't be right.

But it was. If it weren't for him, she would have been smashed into oblivion by the club. Plus, if he had left her there injured, the troll would have gotten her when it awoke. There was no way she would have been able to outrun something so massive, especially with only one leg working.

Feeling strangely irritated, Evangeline began dragging the stick through the dirt beside her.

For a while today, she had almost convinced herself that things had gone back to normal between them. He just… hadn't been himself. And as much as she hated to admit it, she _missed_the old Sirius. The one who had been her best friend for fifteen years. The one with whom she had co-invented Broomstick Battles and who used to save her from boring family get-togethers by carrying out the classic Operation Dungbomb.

The memory caused a semi-smile to tug at her lips. She glanced down at the shapes she had been absently tracing in the earth and was taken aback to see a squiggly line that looked suspiciously like an 'S'. With a furtive glance around the clearing, she rubbed it out using the back of her sleeve, heart suddenly racing. Oh god, what was she doing?

Despite herself, she looked over at Sirius again. He was sitting casually with his legs bent in front of him, staring in the opposite direction. She looked away.

_You really should thank him,_ an annoyingly wise voice in the back of her mind reasoned. _After all, he did a lot for you today._

_Thank him?_a different, more childish voice repeated in outrage. _I can't thank him! He's… my worst enemy. That would be stupid._

_But it wouldn't be right not to say anything, would it?_ _Go thank him. Do it now while everyone else is asleep._

_No! I won't do it!_

_But you have to._

_No, I don't!_

_Yes, you do._

If only to stop the mental ping-pong match occurring in her head, Evangeline dropped the stick and sat bolt upright. Slowly, as though she couldn't believe what she was about to do, she pushed herself up onto her good foot.

_Right,_she thought as she found her balance. _I'll just go over there, say a quick thanks and then come back._

Even in her head, it was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard.

Nonetheless, it would be wrong not to thank Black for what he had done, even if he _was_the biggest arsehole in the universe. Gritting her teeth, she made a small hop forward, trying her best to ignore the searing pain. She jumped again, shifting another two centimetres. Well, at this rate, she supposed she might make it to him _at least _by sunrise. Excellent. She tried a slightly larger jump, and that, it turned out, was a mistake.

"Ahh!" she hissed out as she fought to maintain her balance, arms propelling out at her sides. Fortunately, she managed to right herself before she fell. Unfortunately, the racket had attracted Sirius' attention. He was spun round at his post, gaping at her like she was some sort of mythical beast.

Well, this had just gotten severely awkward. Face bright red but determined not to meet his eyes, Evangeline hop-skipped the rest of the way, very aware that his eyes were on her the entire time. The action made her leg feel as though someone was hammering nails into it.

When she was about two metres away, everything gave away beneath her and she tumbled to the ground, skinning her knee painfully. Swearing, she dragged herself until she was sitting beside Sirius. "Tada," she deadpanned, hoping it might cast a humorous light on the utter spectacle she had just made of herself. Getting there had taken so much out of her that she almost forgot what she had actually been meaning to say. "Oh Merlin, right. Okay, um… I just wanted to say thanks for… er… for what you did for me today."

Okay, it sounded even more idiotic out loud.

Sirius was gaping at her as though she was the bloody second coming of Merlin, pupils blown and mouth parted. His hair hung sideways across his eyes, his cheek bones sharp under the light of the swollen moon.

Evangeline felt like jumping off a cliff. "Yeah, well that's all I had to say, really, so… cheers." She made to stand up.

"Wait." Sirius' voice was scratchy as he called her back. He was wearing a pensive expression similar to the one Lily got when she was stuck on a difficult arithmancy problem. "Thanks," he finally murmured. "I mean, thanks for saying thanks."

"No worries," Evangeline replied stupidly. She tried to stand up, but the pain in her leg had risen to unbearable heights, and she simply couldn't take it anymore. "I'll do my shift now if you want. I can't sleep anyway."

Sirius nodded and rose to his feet. "Okay then. Night," he said quietly.

"Night," Evangeline replied in a whisper.

As she watched him stride back toward the others, her tired brain began to register how strange things had gotten between them that day.

She couldn't help but wonder how long it would last.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, you all have full permission to throw things at me.

*Screams and ducks for cover*

I know I resolved to update more frequently, but like most of my resolutions, that sort of went down the drain. I typed up about three quarters of this in the days that followed my last update, but I started to lose steam because this chapter is SO LONG.

Luckily for you, I saw HBP last night (how AWESOME was it?!) and got all HP obsessed again. And what do I do when I'm obsessed with Harry Potter? I write! So I am yet again in fanfic mode. Anyway I'm sorry if the last part seems very rushed… I wrote it in what was probably record time for a slowpoke like me.

Reviews are the light of my life. ;)

-Liz


	9. Daybreak

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Daybreak**

The following morning, Lily awoke feeling so warm and cosy that she concluded (in her state of delirium) that she was curled up under the squashy bedspread on her four-poster and that yesterday's events must have been some sort of horrific nightmare. After all, there was no way a cold, dirt-covered forest floor could feel this comfortable.

Although…

She shifted a little and frowned when she discovered that there was no fluffy pillow supporting her head. Wondering vaguely if maybe it had slipped to the side during the night, she stuck out a hand blindly and groped around for it.

She was jolted cruelly to her senses when instead of curling around the soft, down-filled fabric she was expecting, her hand collided with something smooth and warm with a loud _smack_.

"Ouch!"

She opened her eyes in alarm to see James' face surprisingly close to her own. He lifted a hand and rubbed his pale cheek, upon which a patch of crimson was already blooming.

"Oh my gosh! I'm sorry!" Lily gasped, her head spinning with confusion. She was practically pressed up against him, with one of her hands resting on his chest and the other hovering next to his pink-stained cheek. One of James' arms was curled around her waist.

"What the hell?" James muttered groggily, sleep clouding his partially opened eyes. Lily stared at the hand that was loosely gripping his T-shirt and wondered for a moment if it was really attached to her body. When she convinced herself that indeed, it was, she yanked it away as though it had been burnt.

James, who finally seemed to be coming to, raised his eyebrows.

"Don't. Say. A word," Lily hissed, pushing his arm off of her waist and sitting up.

"Didn't realize you were so into me, Evans," he offered with a sleepy grin, voice gravelly.

She rolled her eyes. "Trust me, I'm not."

James let out a monstrous yawn and sat up, stretching his arms out wide. Lily tried not to notice that his biceps strained against the sleeves of his shirt as he did so. He raked his hands through his already unkempt hair a few times, causing it to stick up even more wildly than before.

Lily snorted before she could stop herself.

"What?"

"You look ridiculous," she told him plainly.

"Gee, thanks."

"No, seriously, does your hair _ever _lie flat?"

James smirked. "Nope. Just part of my charm."

Lily shook her head. "You're insufferable, did you know that?"

"Right. Says the one dishing out slaps."

Lily winced in embarrassment, but she was saved the trouble of replying when a loud voice sounded from across the clearing.

"Oi! You two! Quit your flirting and get over here!" Sirius was flagging them down from the entrance to the mineshaft, where Peter and Rianne had joined him and Eva sat on the ground, looking disgruntled.

Lily and James stared briefly at one another, mouths open, before rising to their feet and hurrying to join the others.

"Why didn't you wake us, you dolt?" James demanded, eyeing Sirius angrily.

Sirius grinned, and then adopted an innocent expression. "None of us could bring ourselves to shatter the beautiful moment," he said. "Also, it provided a source of entertainment."

"Sirius, I swear to Merlin…" James growled, flushing. Lily felt her own cheeks redden, but their proximity to the mineshaft was a reminder of the bigger picture—a problem which far overshadowed trivial Marauder antics.

She swallowed. "Are they still…?" She let her voice trail off, nodding toward the mouth of the pit.

Evangeline, who was sitting on the ground and dragging a stick listlessly through the dirt, caught her drift and nodded, raising her head. "They're alright. I've been checking in on them." Her voice was croaky and her skin had gone pallid, highlighting the tinge of blue ringing her eyes. Lily felt a pang of remorse for her friend when she realized she probably hadn't gotten a wink of sleep all night.

"How's your leg?" she queried, eyeing the mottled blue-purple-red-green flesh that was exposed under Eva's rolled-up jeans and trying not to grimace.

"Could be better," Evangeline mumbled, her own eyes flicking toward the injury and quickly flitting away again. Interestingly, Sirius' attention was also focused intently on Evangeline's leg. Eva, who noticed this, shifted uncomfortably and began drawing swirls in the dirt once again.

"So, what's the plan?" James spoke up, yawning once again and sticking his hands into his pockets.

Sirius, whose gaze was still burning a hole in Evangeline's leg, took a few moments to respond. "What? Oh." He cast a glance toward the edge of the clearing, where the pine trees formed a gateway into the dangerous realm of trolls and other such creatures. "I was just saying before, I reckon they'll be looking for us by now. We didn't show up to camp last night. What do you reckon? Stay here? Wait it out?"

"Well, there's no way in Hell _I'm_ going back out there," Rianne said. "I'm quite happy to stay put. If anyone else wants to walk straight into their death, though, please feel free." She looked absolutely atrocious, Lily took pleasure in noting. Her makeup was smeared and patchy and the smooth black curtain that was usually her hair had been replaced by a matted mess, housing a variety of leaves and twigs.

"Seriously Nott, do us all a favour and go find a cliff, would you?" It was Sirius who spoke, disgust written all over his face. Even Peter sent her a glare, seemingly recovered yesterday's attachment.

"I do think we should stay, though." Peter put forward this opinion somewhat timidly, as though afraid of what the others might think. He glanced at Sirius for reassurance. Sirius looked toward James, who shrugged.

"I suppose it makes sense to stick together and wait for Wolfe to find us," he reasoned.

"Well, at least you've made _one _wise decision on this camp, Mr. Potter."

The gravelly voice belonged to none of the teenagers present. It was Professor Wolfe, who had emerged from the depths of the forest and was stalking toward them. His entire face had turned a mottled beetroot colour and he looked as though he might spontaneously combust any second. Lily gulped. The professor regarded them with a thunderous expression, appearing as though he would like nothing more than to strangle them to death. Instead, however, he took a deep breath and addressed them in a dangerously low growl.

"You have got some _serious _explaining to do."

* * *

"Irresponsible! Completely foolish! What were you thinking? You could have been seen by Muggles! You could have been _killed_!"

In the confines of the Hospital Wing, the small cluster of teenagers winced in synchronization as Professor McGonagall's voice rose to a level of shrillness previously unknown to mankind.

"You!" she shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at James. "And you!" She swivelled around to direct the finger at Lily. "Head Boy and Head Girl! I expected so much more from both of you."

Lily felt tears sting in her eyes at this remark and redirected her eyes to the cold stone floor. The entire morning, it seemed, had passed by in a hazy blur of loud voices. Whilst it was generally difficult to recall individual events, some moments stuck out crystal clear amidst the chaos.

Lily didn't think she would ever forget the sick feeling in her abdomen when Isabelle and Remus had been levitated out of the mineshaft, deathly pale and shivering. Isa's arm had been wrapped in a blood-soaked rag and Remus had looked like death warmed over, with circles so dark they were almost purple under his tired eyes. The mere memory of their hollow gazes caused Lily's stomach to turn to lead.

"Professor, it really wasn't their fau—"

McGonagall raised her hand to cut Sirius off. "Silence, Mr. Black. I will not allow one person to take the blame for what was obviously the result of incredibly poor teamwork. Everyone is equally at fault here."

Sirius gave an outraged, open-mouthed stare, but clamped his jaw shut.

"Minerva, I hate to interrupt, but I really do need to treat their injuries..." Madam Pomfrey had emerged from her office for the third time since their arrival, clutching a tray of various tonics and dressings and wearing an irritated expression on her face; she was clearly annoyed at the Head of Gryffindor for monopolizing her patients.

McGonagall appeared equally exasperated. "Yes, _very well_, Poppy," she finally conceded, and then turned to face her victims one last time. "I will be writing to your families about this incident." And with that, she left the Hospital Wing, leaving five solemn students in her wake.

"Goodness, I thought she was never going to leave," Madam Pomfrey muttered, more to herself than to anyone else. She set down her tray with a loud _clunk _and rolled up her sleeves, eyeing the myriad of injuries surrounding her. Isabelle and Remus had already been treated due to the seriousness of their conditions, and were currently under the spell of a sleeping potion on the other side of the Hospital Wing. Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey had announced that they would be perfectly fine, if a little groggy once the potion wore off.

Rianne was not there. She had been collected from school immediately following their return by her irate father, who had proclaimed loudly that she would never be coming back. Lily couldn't say she was upset about this.

Unsurprisingly, the nurse made a beeline for Evangeline, forcing her into a hospital bed and clicking her tongue in disapproval at the state her leg was in. "Honestly," she clucked, positioning her wand against Evangeline's shin with an indignant glare. "I don't know _what _they were thinking, letting a bunch of seventeen-year-olds run around in a forest full of trolls." She jabbed Eva's leg a little harder than necessary, causing her to yelp in pain. "Sorry, dear. I'm going to have a word with Dumbledore about this… _completely _ridiculous. Now that should mend nicely, but it will be a bit tender for the next few hours." She poured a glass of turquoise liquid and handed it to Evangeline, who sniffed the substance apprehensively before downing it in one gulp, gagging slightly.

"Good girl. Now let me have a look at those scratches, young man." Madam Pomfrey took the glass back from Evangeline and turned to address Sirius, who looked up in mild surprise.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," he insisted, shooting a quick glance at the angry red stripes on his upper arm.

The nurse was not so easily convinced. "Nonsense," she said, picking up a tube of colourless ointment and squeezing a sizeable dollop onto a cloth. Before Sirius could protest, she began to attack his wounds with the liquid.

"Shit!" Sirius gasped in agony as the cloth made contact with his skin.

"Language, Mr. Black." The nurse shot him a stern look from behind her glasses.

Something in this exchange struck Lily as slightly odd. It took her a moment to put her finger on it, but then it hit her. Madam Pomfrey knew Sirius by name, which made very little sense. Unless he was secretly severely accident-prone (which she highly doubted), Lily couldn't figure out why the nurse would know who he was. Odd.

"There we are. Good as new," Madam Pomfrey proclaimed, stepping back to admire her handiwork. The skin on Sirius' forearm was smooth and unblemished, and betrayed no signs of the marks which had been there only moments before.

He rubbed his arm, looking completely outraged. "Bloody hell…"

* * *

After a thorough interrogation, Madam Pomfrey deemed Lily, James and Peter well enough to leave the Hospital Wing (but not before force-feeding them pepperup potions with alarming fervour). Evangeline and Sirius, however, had not been so lucky. The nurse had decided to detain them for a few more hours, much to their mutual displeasure.

"But there's nothing wrong with me!" Sirius was sitting up in the bed he had been confined to, a look of utter incredulity etched into his face.

Madam Pomfrey wagged her finger in an almost comical gesture. "I'm afraid I must keep all patients in for observation after treatment, in case of infection," she told him, sounding very much as though she was reading directly from a rulebook.

"Bad luck, mate," James commented, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he shoved his arms through the sleeves of his jacket and pulled it on.

Sirius scowled. "Shut up," was the only response he was able to come up with.

"But Madam Pomfrey," Evangeline addressed the nurse in a syrupy tone, eyes wide in false concern, "we have to study for our make-up exam, and all my books are in the dormitories…"

Lily had to stifle a giggle at this ridiculously uncharacteristic statement. McGonagall _had _informed them that they would be required to undertake both a written examination and a practical assessment in order to make up the grade from the camp, but the chances of Eva actually being concerned about this were practically below zero.

Madam Pomfrey merely offered a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure your friends wouldn't mind bringing your schoolwork by for you to catch up on, dear" she said, smoothing out the sheets on an empty bed.

"Oh, of course," Evangeline returned with a pained-looking smile. As soon as the words left her mouth, she turned to Lily and shook her head furiously, warning her to do nothing of the sort.

"I'd be happy to," Lily announced, earning her a classic Evangeline stuck-out tongue. Lily stood up from her chair, grinning, and then winced as she felt a jet of steam pelt out of her ears (an unsavoury side-effect of the pepperup potion).

"Weird, isn't it?" James motioned to his own ears, which were also exuding a steady stream of vapour. Lily, who hadn't been aware that he was standing right behind her, started and dropped her jacket onto the floor. Unthinkingly, she reached down to retrieve it, only to find herself looking straight into the hazel depths of James' eyes. She let out a tiny gasp and found her own eyes trailing down to the silhouette of his surprisingly full lips. A strange thought popped into her mind out of nowhere: It would be so easy to just… lean in touch her mouth to his. The notion sent Lily's mind spinning into a flurry of activity; she almost felt dizzy. Seemingly of their own accord, her eyes rose to meet James', and for a moment, neither of them moved.

But, as seemed to be the case with everything these days, the moment came to an awkward and uncomfortable end. James, with a slight frown, cleared his throat and pushed her jacket into her hands, standing up.

"I, er, I guess we should get going," he said, turning toward Peter, who was standing by the door. "See you, Sirius. Get well soon, would you?" he added with a feeble attempt at humour, sparing a wave for his sullen friend and receiving a loathsome glare in return.

Lily, who was silently begging the heat in her cheeks to go away, shrugged her jacket on and watched James exit the room, allowing her eyes to follow his retreating figure until he was out of sight. As soon as he was gone, the cloudy feeling in her head dispersed and she was suddenly able to think again. It was as though his mere presence inflicted some sort of illness upon her, wherein she was unable to process things coherently. Whatever it was, she was beginning to tire of constantly questioning it. James Potter had been doing things to her lately that she never would have imagined possible in previous years. The only problem was, he didn't seem to be at all interested in _her _anymore. Lily would have laughed at the irony of it all, had it not been so depressing.

With a sigh and a brief farewell to Evangeline, she set off back to the common room, listening to her footsteps echo in the empty corridors and feeling inexplicably—yet tremendously—alone.

* * *

Raindrops were surprisingly fascinating.

Or maybe it was just the profound boredom altering her sense of amusement, Evangeline decided with a sigh, watching as fat droplets of water cascaded down the large window across from her hospital bed.

It had been a mere twenty minutes since Lily had left her there to rot, but it felt as though a lifetime had passed. Trapped in a prison with nothing to do and only Sirius Black to keep her company, time seemed to drag by with all the swiftness of a dying slug.

Involuntarily, her eyes drifted over to Black's figure on the bed next to hers. He sat, as she did, with his back pressed up against the wall, wearing a glower to rival the gloomy weather outside. While she examined his profile, Evangeline couldn't help but frown a little, recalling their bizarre conversation from the night before. Realistically, she knew, it had been the result of shock and fatigue, and her practical side told her that things would inevitably revert to their usual state once the ordeal was over. But did she really want that?

She bit her lip. As much as she was loathe to admit it, yesterday had been a painful reminder of happier times—times when Sirius had been her best friend, and not just a jerk who brought out the murderous demon inside of her. Staring intently at his features, she found herself reflecting on those carefree years, filled with an inescapable feeling of tragedy.

She was still deep in thought when, without warning, Sirius turned his head and caught her gaze. Eva looked away in panic, but it was too late. He had seen her staring.

Silently cursing herself, she focused her attention on the window once more, vowing not to look his way again. Unfortunately, when she heard a slight groan of bedsprings and an odd rustling noise, her curiosity got the best of her and she gave in, shifting her eyes furtively to the side.

Sirius was on his feet, beside his bed, surveying the room with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" The words were out of Evangeline's mouth before she could stop them.

He turned around in surprise, eyebrows faintly inclined, and gazed at her for a moment as though pondering whether or not he should respond. To Evangeline's astonishment, he did. "Escaping," he told her, zipping up his grey jacket and heading toward the door.

Eva had absolutely no idea why she did what she did next.

"Wait! I'm coming with you," she said, springing off of the bed.

Sirius stopped cold, spinning around to stare at her. Eva held her breath, waiting for him to tell her to sod off, but to her utmost surprise, he merely acknowledged her statement with a slight nod and continued on his way to the door. Mildly stunned, she crept along after him, struck by an overwhelming wave of nostalgia at their working together. _Just like old times,_ she thought, with a hint of bitterness.

They had almost made it to freedom when Evangeline froze in her tracks. "Black!" she hissed, before he could take another step. "Pomfrey alert!"

Sure enough, the nurse was seated in her office, which just so happened to be directly adjacent to the exit. Evangeline wondered fleetingly if this was a deliberate attempt to keep her patients under lock and key, which would not surprise her in the slightest. Whatever the reason, it was undeniable: there was no way they would make it out without being seen.

"Oh, perfect," Sirius muttered darkly.

Evangeline crossed her arms and looked around, appraising the room and searching for alternative exits. Her eyes found the window which had been keeping her entertained a few minutes ago, and she glanced over at Sirius. He, too, was focused on the potential escape route. He turned to face her, his grey eyes sharp and questioning.

Evangeline agreed with his unspoken proposition. "Let's go for it."

The window was as ancient as the rest of the castle. The latch was rusty and covered in cobwebs and, Evangeline thought, probably had not been used in a couple hundred years. She attempted to pry it open, tugging with all of her strength. It didn't budge.

"Come _on,_ you stupid thing!" She flexed her fingers and grabbed hold again with renewed vigour. A pair of warm hands settled beside her own, and it actually took her a moment to realize that they belonged to Sirius. She looked up in alarm and unintentionally locked gazes with him for a split second, before hastily refocusing on the stubborn latch.

They both pulled with all of their might for at least a minute, and then finally, when Evangeline was about ready to give up and beg Madam Pomfrey to fix the blisters on her palms, the latch shifted with a deafening screech.

"Crap!" Evangeline and Sirius shared a glance of panic; there was no way that the nurse would have missed that. Sure enough, there was a creak as Pomfrey stood up from her chair to investigate.

Sirius shoved the window open frantically, unleashing another thunderous noise, and rain began to pool on floor inside. "You go first," he said, motioning for Evangeline to go ahead.

Footsteps were rapidly approaching now. Heart racing, Eva hoisted herself onto the ledge and looked down, relieved to see that it was only a two metre or so drop.

There was a sudden gasp from behind her and a very feminine screech. "My word! Get down from there!"

They had been discovered.

With a desperate look back, Evangeline made up her mind and sprang from the window, landing hard on the soaking grass below. Her leg buckled and for a moment there was a searing pain, but it disappeared so quickly that it barely registered.

She looked up, squinting through the heavy rain, to see Sirius vault through the open frame and land surprisingly gracefully on the ground next to her. "You okay?" he questioned, raindrops rolling down his face and seeping into his jacket and hair.

"Yeah, you?" Evangeline questioned, pushing her sopping hair out of her face. Sirius nodded.

"Stop this instant! You must come back inside! Never in all my years…" Madam Pomfrey was hanging her head out the window, shouting at them so loudly that her voice was turning hoarse.

Evangeline and Sirius turned toward each other, eyes wide, and then uttered one word in perfect synchronisation:

"Run!"

And with that, they took off through the rain at a sprint, ignoring the nurse's cries of distress and not stopping until they reached the safety of the Entrance Hall.

As soon as they made it into the castle, Evangeline doubled over, trying to regulate her breathing. She glanced over at Sirius, who stood by the door resembling a drowned rat with his flattened hair and sopping clothes. He looked back at her, and then something incredible happened.

The corners of his mouth twitched upward into a smile.

Evangeline, whose hair was dripping into a puddle on the stone floor, found herself inexplicably grinning in return.

It may not have seemed like anything special to the casual observer, but in that moment, Eva could have sworn that she felt something shift.

* * *

Isabelle had been drifting in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours, though in reality it could have been only a few minutes. In the dark cocoon of her in-between state, time did not seem to exist. Instead, images played across her mind like a disjointed film, fading in gradually and then washing away into the sea of blackness.

Currently, two golden orbs had appeared on the backdrop of ebony. They began growing more and more intricate until they formed a pair of familiar eyes, and Isabelle smiled as Remus' face materialized out of the darkness. The intensity of his gaze filled her with warmth.

Without warning, his image began to fade, and Isabelle felt her comfortable haven begin to slip away. There was a sense of falling and a bright flash of light and then…

"Did you say something?"

Feeling dazed, she forced her heavy eyes open. Everything had a fuzzy edge to it, as though she hadn't fully woken up yet. Or was she still asleep? It was difficult to tell.

"Isabelle?"

Remus was there, propped up in what appeared to be a hospital bed, with a book of some sort open on his lap. He was looking straight at her.

She blinked, cheek still pressed up against her pillow, and opened her mouth. "Wha…?" she queried, the word dragging out as though her lips couldn't quite sort out how to speak.

Remus looked slightly taken aback, she thought, as he hastened to reply. "Oh, nothing." He shook his head. "Just… I thought I heard you say my name."

Isabelle admired him through half-open eyes, fascinated by the golden halo that seemed to surround his body. "Oh," she murmured. "I was just thinking about you." She yawned, feeling a sudden pull from the comfortable land of darkness she had just left. "I think about you… a lot… actually…" And with that, she surrendered to sleep and drifted into a deep slumber, blissfully unaware of the magnitude of what she had just confessed.

Across the room, a dumbfounded Remus Lupin dropped his book and stared at her sleeping form in shock.

* * *

The next time Isabelle woke, it felt markedly different. The fuzziness was gone and her head was pounding with the intensity of a small earthquake. She felt as though she was waking from the dead, or at least from a thousand year nap.

With great effort, she heaved her upper body into a vertical position, wincing at the ache pulsing through her limbs. She blinked a few times, trying to lift some of the heaviness from her eyelids. From the starched, white beds in neat rows surrounding her, she figured she was in the Hospital Wing, but her memory failed her when she tried to remember why.

As she sat there, confused, something propped up on the bedside table caught her eye. It appeared to be some sort of card, made from thick parchment with a flashing "Get Well Soon!" scrawled across the front in charmed text. Next to it, there was a partially depleted package of chocolate frogs.

Frowning in confusion, Isabelle reached out a hand and grabbed hold of it, bringing it closer. With careful fingers, she opened it up to reveal a chaotic double-page spread of writing. The words were clustered into paragraphs of varying size and shape, indicating that they had been authored by multiple people. Curious, she let her eyes skim across the pages and began to read.

_Isa,_

_Eva and I were studying for our make-up exam (read: making paper airplanes and discussing Amos Diggory's fitness) when we suddenly realized that by making you a get-well card, we could actually waste study time for a valid cause. Don't you feel so loved?_

_You're really not missing out on much here. Everyone else is still on the camp, so we're stuck in the common room with all the littlies, who are too scared to ask us what we're doing back at school. Oh, except, you know Bertha Jorkins? She just cornered me in the hallway and asked if it was true that Eva tried to kill Sirius with an acorn. I told her it was actually a pinecone. Knowing Bertha, she probably believed me._

_Anyway, get plenty of rest and try to get out of there soon. I need you here to force me to study for this test! Eva is such a bad influence._

_Love you and miss you!_

_Lily_

**""**

_Hey Isa,_

_Lily only spoke to Bertha about twenty minutes ago, and already the entire house seems to be under the impression that I'm some sort of Psycho Pinecone Killer. Can you believe it? Clearly, Gryffindor is full of gullible freaks. Is it even possible to kill someone with a pinecone?_

_Madam Pomfrey won't let us visit you because you're 'in a delicate state'. Or, well, maybe it's because last time she saw me, I was jumping out the window to get away from her (long story—I'll tell you when you're back). Anyway, Lily and I are fully prepared to bust you out of there if necessary. We have a foolproof plan: we'll be entering through the North-West window at exactly 10:00 pm on Sunday night wearing yellow raincoats to camouflage with the darkness._

_Seriously though… just say the word and we'll come for you._

_Hope you're feeling better soon! And COME BACK TO US!_

_Love Eva the Evil Pinecone Murderer_

_Ps. Lily, I am not a bad influence! _Someone_ needs to make sure you have fun every now and then!_

**""**

_Just a quick note: Remus, since your friends are too lazy to make their own card, they have bribed us into letting them write on ours by providing chocolate frogs to give to you and Isabelle as a present (although that hardly counts because Sirius has already eaten half of the packet). So, since this card is officially for both of you now, we just wanted to say we hope you feel better soon too, Remus._

_Lily & Evangeline_

**""**

_Yo Risabelle,_

_I'm too lazy to write your names separately. Sorry._

_I did not eat any chocolate frogs. Lily is a liar and wants me to be sent to Azkaban because she's jealous of my hair. Don't be surprised; it's pretty obvious. I believe that was the first time I've ever used a semi-colon in my life._

_Ha, that's a funny word… semi-colon semi-colon semi-colon semi-c_

Here, there was a strange smudge on the parchment where the ink had been smeared into an illegible blob.

_Oops… I just tried to write with the wrong end of my quill. Too bad it didn't work. They should invent upside-down quills. And upside-down ink. And upside down chocolate frogs! I love chocolate frogs._

_Oh yeah, and get well soon._

_Ps. I didn't eat the frogs._

_Pps. Seriously. They just jumped into my mouth. There was nothing I could do about it._

_Ppppppppppps. James is trying to take away the card because he doesn't want me to clear my name, BUT I AM INNOCENT! Ha, take that, Prongs._

_Sirius Non-Chocolate-Frog-Eater Black_

**""**

_Remus (and Isabelle),_

_First off, sorry about Sirius. As you may have guessed, he DID eat the frogs. In fact, he broke his record and managed to eat twenty-seven in less than a minute (NOT a pretty sight.) He's currently singing karaoke in the common room and frightening the children._

_Feel better soon and please know that if you are not out of the hospital wing in time to watch the first Quidditch match of the season, Sirius and I will probably kill you. You have been warned._

_James_**y-Poo** _(Thanks for adding that last bit on, Siri-Poo)_

_(No problem, Jamesy-Poo.)_

**""**

_Dear Remus and Isabelle,_

_I want to apologise for causing the entire disaster (but in my defence, that butterfly was quite monstrous). I'm so relieved that you're both alright, and I hope you recover quickly._

_Peter_

_**""**_

_Well, now that our card has been completely DEFACED…_

_I think it looks better like this._

_You would, Black._

_What's that supposed to mean, Hansen? And why are we writing this on their card?_

_I don't know. Let's stop._

_Okay._

_Fine._

_I thought we were stopping._

_We are._

_Good. And I didn't eat the chocolate frogs._

When she finished reading, Isabelle's grip slackened and the card fluttered into her lap, forgotten. A tidal wave of memories had come flooding back, all jumbled up and crashing around chaotically in her head. The camp, the mineshaft, the fall, the pain, the hospital… She suddenly felt dizzy. It was all blank after that, except…

Her heart suddenly dropped to the pit of her stomach like a rock.

"_I think about you… a lot… actually…"_

The memory was there, a faint outline in the back of her mind, and yet somehow more important than all the others. Isabelle felt as though the blood had been drained from her body as her mouth dropped open in horror. She was going to throw up.

"Oh my God," she whispered, horrified.

She snapped her eyes over to Remus' bed, only to see that it was empty and neatly made. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears as she looked around in confusion. According to the clock on her bedside table, it was five in the morning. But what day was it? Where was Remus? How long had she been out of it for?

Had she not been interrupted from her frantic thoughts at that moment, Isabelle might have had a heart attack. Luckily, she was saved from her rapidly increasing pulse when two tall figures barged through the doors of the Hospital Wing, causing quite a ruckus.

"I don't want to go!"

"For Merlin's sake, Sirius. You're bleeding like mad. "

"But she _hates _me!"

"And whose fault is that?"

James and Sirius had stumbled through the doors, both covered in so much blood that Isabelle instinctively clapped a hand to her mouth. Sirius was clutching his side with a balled-up piece of fabric that was soaked and shiny with the crimson liquid.

"Ugh, Moony's going to get a piece of my mind," Sirius grunted, lifting the rag from his side to examine the wound. "I know he can't help it and all but… Merlin. Next month, I'm wearing armour."

"Shut up," James hissed, suddenly noticing Isabelle's presence. Sirius looked up in alarm and Isabelle blinked, not having understood a word of their exchange.

"What happened to you?" she asked faintly.

James and Sirius looked at one another, lost for words.

"Oh… er… fell over," James finally told her vaguely, just as Sirius muttered something about venomous tentacula.

Isabelle raised her eyebrows suspiciously at their rather pathetic explanation. She figured the injuries must have been a result of one of their pranks or something, but she was too distracted to question them any further on the matter.

"Where's, um…" She trailed off and then tried again, trying not to sound overly interested. "Where's Remus?" Instead of sounding offhand, the question came out sounding rather desperate.

The two boys looked at one another with the same open-mouthed expression as before.

"Oh, Remus…?" James asked slowly, as though he wasn't sure who she was talking about. "Remus Lupin? He's… he's…" He looked around the room desperately.

"He's visiting his girlfriend!" Sirius suddenly burst out. James shot him a dubious look and then turned back to face Isabelle, scratching his head.

"Yeah, she goes to… to you know, a different school, so he… er… visits her sometimes," he explained, somewhat sketchily.

Isabelle felt numb. Her stomach rose up into her throat. "Oh," she managed to choke out.

She barely even noticed when Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office, nor when Sirius plunked down on a bed nearby to have his wound mended.

Remus had a girlfriend.

She felt like curling up into a ball somewhere and never coming back. A lump rose in her throat as she lay back down and pulled the covers up around her face, trying not to let her feelings show. Remus must have thought she was so _stupid_ when she said those things. He probably felt sorry for her, for being so pathetic.

Clenching her eyes shut, Isabelle smashed her face into her pillow, wanting nothing more than to fall back into the oblivion of sleep.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello faithful readers (if you still exist!)

Please see my profile for a super long explanation/apology regarding this story. Don't worry, I'm not giving up if that's what it sounds like (I refuse to abandon my work). In fact, it's quite the opposite. :)

Anyway, you have no idea how HARD it was to write this! I don't think I've ever met such a dunce of a chapter in my life. I rewrote it _at least _three times and changed the storyline twice, because I just couldn't find something that I was happy with. It was too boring, then too far-fetched, then just plain stupid… You get the drift. I'm still not a hundred percent happy with the way it turned out, but I felt I needed to quit for the sake of my sanity.

However, something that's been bothering me about this story is the abundance of scenes about Lily's friends and the dwindling number of Lily/James scenes. This chapter was especially bad, as you probably noticed. The next chapter WILL be very Lily/James centric, but I feel as though Isabelle and Eva are sort of taking over… I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Do you mind the OC-focused sections or would you prefer more Lily/James screen time? Any suggestions on how to improve the Lames lovin'? (or is it Jily? Both sound pretty silly :P) Anything is welcome!

Oh! Before I forget! A big, super belated shout-out to my dear friend xcanadiangirlx for inspiring the end of chapter seven. (Long story short: We were outside Wal-Mart when we were suddenly attacked by a monstrous insect, causing us to scream and jump around like lunatics. It turned out to be a butterfly. How embarrassing.)

So, please review and give me your opinions on the whole Isabelle and Evangeline dilemma, and stay tuned for the next chapter, which I will be slaving away at as soon as this one goes up!

Thanks for reading! You guys are the greatest :)

-Liz


	10. Future Voices

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Future Voices**

September faded into October in a flurry of schoolwork and Head Duties, and before Lily had time to catch her breath, Halloween was just around the corner.

Usually, Lily loved Hogwarts at this time of year, when the verdure outside had ripened to a rust-coloured hue and the hallways were lined with enchanted jack-o'-lanterns that grinned and cackled as students passed by. This year, however, the gloomy weather only depressed her.

The camp, with all its drama, seemed a lifetime ago, and yet its impact still lingered in the lives of those involved. Everyone had passed the make-up exam (which had turned out to be surprisingly basic) but the majority of issues stemming from the experience were not so easily resolved. Isabelle, especially, had been affected. Since being released from the hospital, she had been a completely different person. She no longer smiled, her appetite had dwindled and she seemed tired all the time, much to her friends' concern.

While Evangeline shared Lily's anxieties about Isabelle, she was also highly distracted by her patchy association with Sirius. With their relationship in such a questionable state, neither of them seemed to know exactly where they stood. Were they enemies? Friends? People who despised one another but cooperated every now and then just for the sake of it? Needless to say, it was a very awkward situation. Rather than facing the issue head on, however, Evangeline had decided to avoid it at all costs, which meant staying away from Sirius. He seemed to have a similar take on the problem, resulting in an entire month without a single shouting match (which was close to a miracle, by anyone's standards).

With both of her friends so out of it, Lily had glided through the month in an unusually solitary state. The only interaction she had had with James had been during their Head meeting a few weeks ago, which had consisted mainly of silence as they ploughed through their paperwork. His standoffish behaviour merely served to increase Lily's confusion about her feelings for him.

Thanks to the combined stress from all of the above, Lily woke up with a knot in her stomach on the day before Halloween, and it was with great trepidation that she slathered marmalade onto her toast that morning. She and James had arranged a meeting for later in the day, and she was thoroughly dreading it. Not only was the thought of doing work on a Saturday highly unappealing, she was also feeling uneasy about the alone time with the Head Boy. With a sigh, she lifted her toast to her mouth, only to be interrupted before she could take a bite.

"That's it! I can't watch this anymore!"

Evangeline was staring at Isabelle, her sapphire eyes wide in exasperation. "The eggs go on the fork, and the fork goes in your mouth, see?" She stabbed at a piece of sausage and popped it into her mouth as an example, chewing exaggeratedly.

Isabelle, who had been shuffling her eggs around her plate for the past five minutes, sighed and dropped her own fork with a clang. "I'm not hungry," she declared in a quiet voice, her eyes betraying no emotion.

Evangeline shook her head incredulously. "Lily, please talk some sense into her."

"Isa, you have to eat," Lily agreed, finally taking a bite of her toast. "Or at _least _tell us what's going on."

Isabelle, however, barely had a chance to open her mouth before Remus Lupin appeared behind her, looking somewhat nervous.

"Hey, Isabelle? Er, could I talk to you for a second?" he asked.

Lily and Evangeline exchanged meaningful glances; this wasn't the first time Remus had approached Isabelle in the past couple of days. However, she had been continuously dodging his attempts with fabricated excuses, and refused to comment when her friends questioned her about it.

This instance was no exception. She leapt out of her chair as though the building was on fire and began to back away without so much as a look in Remus' direction.

"Oh, actually, I forgot my… my potions book back in the dorms," she rambled, looking slightly petrified.

Remus took a step toward her. "I just—"

She stepped backward. "Sorry, gotta go," she insisted. And with that, she all but ran from the Great Hall, leaving Remus, Lily and Evangeline with matching frowns of confusion on their faces.

Remus' eyes flickered with hurt. "It's Saturday," he muttered.

Lily eyed his defeated form with sympathy and sighed. "I'm sure it's nothing personal," she assured him. "What did you want to talk to her about? I can try and pass on a message if it's something important."

"Oh, no, that's alright," he said hastily. "I'll just… try again later."

As Remus walked away, Evangeline stood up and grabbed Lily's arm.

"Hey! What're you doing?" Lily yelped, trying to reach back for her unfinished toast and failing.

"Come on," Evangeline said, marching her toward the door determinedly. "We're going to ruddy _force_ her to tell us what's going on."

* * *

"Moony, mate, why the long face?" Sirius queried through a mouthful of bacon as Remus slumped down beside James at the breakfast table.

The newcomer grabbed a piece of toast. "Can anyone think of any reason why Isabelle might suddenly hate me?" he asked them miserably.

"Why do you ask?" James asked, digging into his omelette with relish.

"Because," Remus reached for the honey, "I've been trying to ask her to go to Slughorn's Halloween party with me since yesterday, but she won't talk to me. It's like she's… I dunno, angry with me or something."

James stopped chewing rather abruptly. His eyes slid over to Sirius, who was similarly tense, shoulders all tensed up over his heaping plate.

"What is it?" Remus asked at once, always too perceptive for his own good.

"What?" James feigned obliviousness.

"Those looks. What do you two know?"

Sirius gave an uneasy laugh. "It could be nothing," he reasoned. "Just, well, you see..."

Remus stopped eating at once and set down his fork with a murderous stare. "_What _did you_ do_?"

"Oi, why does everyone always blame me? It was James' fault, too!"

James scoffed. "Because you've got a track record, Padfoot. And might I remind you that _you're _the one who told her that ridiculous lie."

"What lie?" demanded Remus in agitation. He threw Peter a desperate look. "Do you know what they're talking about?"

The boy shook his head and mumbled something about no one ever telling him anything.

Remus turned back to the other two and fixed them with a stony glare. "Explain."

"Well… we, _may _have told her that you have a girlfriend," Sirius confessed.

"What?" Remus yelped, causing a few heads to swing around and stare. He lowered his voice to a deadly tone. "_Why_ the _hell_ would you do that?"

James sighed. "Sorry, mate. It was the morning after last month's full moon, you know, when Sirius got hurt?"

The words struck a nerve with Remus. Guilt flickered across his face and his eyes dropped down to focus on the table as he recalled that night when, in his wolf form, he had thrown Sirius into a sharp stone in a fit of rage. It was something he knew he would never forgive himself for.

"She was there, in the hospital wing, and she saw us," continued Sirius, oblivious to his friend's painful flashback. "She wanted to know where you were and… I sort of panicked and said that you'd gone to visit your girlfriend. You know I'm a shit liar! Anyway, she got all funny, like I'd told her there was no Santa Claus or something. Figured it _may _have been a bad move after that."

Remus closed his eyes and clenched his fists under the table. No wonder Isabelle had been acting so strange for the past few weeks. He had been under the impression that she had been avoiding him out of embarrassment regarding her confession from the hospital. Apparently, however, the problem had spiralled much further than that.

He stood up from the table, leaving his half-finished plate of breakfast behind.

"Where are you going?" Sirius queried in confusion.

Remus didn't even bother to turn around. He called his answer back over his shoulder as he went. "I'm going to find Isabelle and fix this whole mess."

* * *

Isabelle was wandering down a corridor somewhere on the first floor, admiring the jack-o'-lanterns with a sense of melancholy, when an all-too-familiar voice called out to her from behind.

"Isabelle!" Remus' voice echoed down the hallway.

She stiffened. Instead of turning around, however, she quickened her pace, determined to get away.

Unfortunately, Remus was not willing to give up so easily. She heard him sigh in frustration and then begin jogging, his heavy footsteps ringing in her ears and drawing nearer by the second.

He reached her side just as she turned the corner.

"This is stupid! Would you _please _talk to me?" he begged, breathing heavily.

Against her own will, she slowed her pace and looked over at his tall form. Despite everything that had happened, her heart still leaped when she glimpsed his golden eyes, which were filled with an honest plea. She turned her head away. "I don't have anything to say to you," she managed to state, albeit quietly.

Remus stopped walking and stuck his arms out, forcing her to do the same. "Listen," he pleaded in a gruff voice.

At this moment, Isabelle felt a surge of inexplicable and uncharacteristic anger bubble up inside of her. She crossed her arms defiantly across her chest. "No, you listen," she retorted, causing Remus' eyes to widen in alarm. "I don't need your little pity party, or whatever this is—"

"That's not—"

"—because if this is about what I said in the hospital, then you don't need to make me feel better or anything. I was half-asleep and confused and I really didn't know what I was saying—"

"But—"

"—and I definitely wasn't aware that you had a girlfriend, so you can just forget about it, okay?"

"_Isabelle!" _Remus grabbed her shoulders, staring at her in exasperation.

"What?" she demanded.

For a split second, he gazed into her eyes, and then, without warning, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. It was a short, gentle kiss, but it sent Isabelle's stomach swirling into a frenzy of butterflies.

When she opened her eyes, it was as though she was seeing the world in a new light. Her hand rose up slowly to touch her lips, which were tingling as though an electrical current was flowing through them. "Wow," was the only coherent word that she seemed to be able to emit.

Remus, who still had his hands on her shoulders, looked down at her and took a deep breath. "Look, I don't know what Sirius and James told you, but I can assure you that I don't have a girlfriend."

Isabelle frowned in confusion. "Wait, what?"

"It's a long story," Remus replied, his brow furrowing slightly. He released her shoulders and brought one hand up to the back of his neck. "But, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go to Slughorn's Halloween party with me tomorrow?" He met her eyes hopefully.

Still in a state of shock, it took Isabelle a moment to gather her mental faculties into a condition where she was capable of responding.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, and then backtracked embarrassedly. "I mean… yeah, I'd like that."

Remus grinned. "Great, I'll meet you in the common room at seven." And just like that, he took off down the corridor with a renewed spring to his step.

It was a whole minute before Isabelle was able to move. Finally, she managed to start making her way back to the common room in a dazed sort of walk, fully aware of the idiotic grin on her face but making no effort to suppress it.

* * *

Lily and Evangeline had given up their search for Isabelle after combing practically every room in the castle, and so it was a surprise when she emerged through the portrait hole almost an hour later, looking strangely dazed and smiling like a maniac.

"Where have you been?" Lily asked, looking up from her paperwork to regard her friend with a mildly puzzled frown.

The blonde didn't seem to have heard. She was twirling a golden ringlet around her finger, staring off into space with that same bemused grin dancing on her lips.

"Hello?" Evangeline waved her arms wildly from where she sat on the couch. "ISA!"

The shout finally got her attention. She spun around and blinked, as though she had just woken up. "Oh, hello!" She greeted them brightly.

"What happened to you?" Evangeline raised one eyebrow in suspicion.

Isabelle responded with a sunny smile and plonked herself into an armchair. "Oh, nothing, nothing… Isn't life wonderful?"

At this comment, Lily and Evangeline's faces morphed into comically identical _what the hell? _expressions.

"Who are you, where did you get the Polyjuice and what have you done with Isabelle?" Evangeline asked, making a show of examining her friend distrustfully.

Lily, who had been staring in apprehension, set her quill down on the table and let out an exasperated sigh. "Isa, _what's going on_?"

* * *

Half an hour later, with the help of constant nagging and a handful of torture tactics, they finally managed to coax the whole, twisted tale out of Isabelle.

Lily recalled the conversation as she hurried down the hallway, already five minutes late for her meeting with James. She was happy for Isa; really, she was. It was lovely to see her smiling again, and Lily had always liked Remus despite the fact that his friends were practically the bane of her existence.

However, while Isabelle seemed happy to forgive and forget, Lily could not easily let go of the fact that her friend had spent over a month being completely down in the dumps. Now that she knew the whole story, there was something that didn't sit right with her, and she was determined to fix it.

The door was unlocked when she reached the Heads Room, which was a good thing, too, because it allowed her to make the dramatic entrance she had been hoping for. Using all her strength, she shoved the door open with a bang, causing James' head to snap up from his parchment. Lily stomped loudly over to where he was sitting on the couch and aimed an angry finger at him.

"_You,_" she growled, letting her bag drop to the stone floor with a thump.

James looked startled. "Uh, hi?" he tried, eyeing her as though questioning her sanity.

"Don't you '_hi_' me, Potter," she snarled, looking slightly possessed. "Why did you lie to Isabelle?"

"What?" James squinted through his glasses in bewilderment.

"You told her Remus had a girlfriend when it was obvious that she liked him. Why would you do that?" She spoke slowly and deliberately, anger dripping from every syllable.

James held his hands up as though to defend himself. "Lily, I think you're overreacting slightly."

On the wall, an innocent-looking painting of a beautiful summer's day slowly darkened, until it had transformed into a stormy night landscape, complete with noisy thunder and dark clouds which partially obscured the fullness of the moon.

Lily found herself yelling overtop of the crashing thunder. "Overreacting? _Overreacting? _God, Potter! She's been a walking bundle of depression for the past month all because of some stupid lie _you _told her! Was it supposed to be a joke or something? Did you think it was _funny?_"

"What? _No!_" Suddenly, James was angry, too. He jumped to his feet. "You obviously don't know the whole story, so don't bloody come in here and accuse me—"

Lily cut him off with a loud scoff. "I know everything I need to know," she told him. "My best friend went through hell and it's _your fault."_ She jabbed his chest.

James looked down at where her finger had hit him and his mouth dropped open in fury. "Well you know what, Evans? Remus is _my _friend. Maybe _I _was trying to protect _him_!"

"Protect him? Why would you—"

A sudden clap of thunder drew Lily's attention to the enchanted work of art, upon which the swollen moon was temporarily visible in all its painted glory.

In that moment, a million memories came back at once, and something clicked in her mind. Something awful. She clapped a hand to her mouth.

"Oh my god." Her voice was scarcely above a whisper. She looked up at James in horror. "It was a full moon," she uttered. "That night, when we got back, and… and he's always away… all those excuses… and I thought Sirius must have been in the Hospital Wing a lot, but I didn't even consider it might have been one of his friends…" She trailed off, feeling strangely numb, and it was with great dread that she spoke the next words. "… He's a werewolf, isn't he?"

James looked dumbstruck. He opened his mouth, as though to deny it, but shut it again, looking indisputably lost. "Lily, you are the smartest person I know," he finally croaked.

Lily couldn't find the words to respond. She shook her head.

"Please, Lily, you can't tell _anyone_," James begged, running his hands anxiously through his hair. "If this got out..." He trailed off, looking helpless.

"I… of course I won't," Lily stammered, suddenly feeling very unsure of herself. She lowered her trembling body onto the couch. "I just… I can't even imagine how awful it must be for him."

James managed to look slightly surprised at this statement. He took a seat next to her. "So, you're not, I dunno, scared?"

"I'm Muggleborn, James," she replied, putting her head in her hands. "I wasn't raised to believe that werewolves are innately evil. Besides, Remus is so… gentle." She frowned, struck by the tragedy of the truth. "It's not fair."

James shook his head. "No, it's not," he agreed.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts.

"I'm sorry," Lily finally spoke up. "I shouldn't have attacked you like that."

James gave a sort of half-smile. "It's okay; you were just being loyal to your friends. I like that."

Lily found herself inexplicably blushing at this comment. She ducked to pick up her bag from the floor and fumbled around inside of it until she found what she was looking for. Pulling out a stack of parchment, she turned back to James. "Um, anyway, here are the student suggestions that Dumbledore asked for," she said, handing over the stack. "I grouped them all by year and house and then put them in alphabetical order by surname."

James raised his eyebrows, examining the mountain of paper in front of him. "How long did that take you?"

"About five seconds," Lily replied airily. Noticing James' shocked expression, she laughed. "I used a sorting spell."

"Ah, so now I know your secret to being so organized," he told her, slipping the paperwork into his own bag with a grin. "I'll give them to Dumbledore later today."

"Okay, great."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Well, I don't think we really need to do much else," James finally said, clearing his throat.

"No," Lily agreed, shaking her head.

James rose from the couch, encouraging Lily to follow suit. She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Oi, are you going to Slughorn's party thing tomorrow?"

Lily blinked. "Yeah, why?"

"Just wondering," he replied vaguely. "Bye, Lily."

Lily felt a smile beginning to form on her face. She gave a little wave. "Bye, James."

Unbeknownst to both of them, the storm clouds on the magical painting had dispersed, allowing the sun to shine through onto the tranquil scene once again. Somewhere in the painted woods, a lovebird called out.

* * *

The next morning, Halloween hit Hogwarts at full force.

The students awoke to the screeching of enchanted bats and descended into a wonderfully decorated Great Hall for breakfast, where the tables were covered in jack-o'-lantern centrepieces that glowed eerily in the dim morning light. All day long, the ghosts roamed the hallways, spooking unsuspecting victims (Peter had had a particularly terrifying encounter with the Bloody Baron) and Peeves flew around in various disguises, cackling madly.

By the time evening rolled around, the majority of students were looking forward to the traditional Halloween feast. A select few, however, were preparing for an equally exciting event: Slughorn's Halloween party. The professor had issued his invitations over a week ago, inviting his preferred pupils to a lavish costume party in the dungeons. Lily, who had yet again received an invitation, had decided to bring Evangeline as her guest. When six-thirty rolled around, the girls had been in their dormitory for half an hour already, preparing their costumes.

"Ow! Lily, that hurt!" Evangeline winced and raised a hand up to her head, where Lily was tugging at various strands of hair with her wand and charming them to appear different colours. Already, there were tresses in every shade of the rainbow nestled amongst Evangeline's natural chestnut.

Lily sighed and swatted her friend's hand away. "I'm almost done," she told her, swishing her wand again and artfully creating a streak of turquoise. "There." She stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Evangeline stood up and ran over to the nearest mirror to examine her hair. She dragged her hands through the long, rainbow strands, looking concerned. "This _is _going to come out, right?"

"For the fiftieth time, _yes_." Lily rolled her eyes. "Go put your make-up on."

Evangeline looked horrified. "Make-up?"

"_Yes_, you can use mine, just… don't do anything stupid." Lily shot her a reproving look through the mirror she was currently examining her own reflection in.

She turned her head around to give her ears a quick once over and felt a tinge of pride at the result of her spellwork. Instead of their usual shape, they were long and pointy with delicate tips that poked through her magically-lengthened hair, which spilled down her back in loose waves. She had drawn the inspiration for her elf costume from her favourite muggle books, _The Lord of the Rings _trilogy. Turning back to face the mirror, she adjusted the neckline of her dress, which was white and gauzy with long, flowing sleeves and gold hems.

"Lily!" Evangeline wailed from across the room. "Lily, fiiix ittt." She turned to reveal what looked like a shimmery black eye.

With a good-natured roll of her own eyes, Lily came to her rescue. "Honestly, Eva," she said, opening a pallet of eye shadow and selecting a suitable shade. "Did you miss the life lesson on being a teenage girl? Close your eyes."

Evangeline obliged, but made a sound indicating annoyance. "_No_, I just don't like the idea of putting that stuff on my face. This is why I wanted to be a ghost, see? No eyeshadow, no mascara, no… whatever the hell that is." She pointed to Lily's eyelash curler, looking frightened. "Just a transparency charm. It's simple yet effective."

"It's pathetic," Lily corrected, dusting a thin layer of blush onto her friend's pale cheeks. "This is _much _better."

"Right. What am I again?" Evangeline asked, casting a dubious glance at her toga-like dress.

Lily snapped the blush shut and groaned. "This is the last time I'm telling you," she said in exasperation. "You are Iris, Greek Goddess of the rainbow."

Evangeline still looked confused. "And that's a muggle thing, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose it is," Lily said. "My sister dressed up as her for Halloween once when we were little and I was always jealous." She finished Evangeline's make-up with a touch of mascara and stepped back. "All done. Wow."

"What? What is it?" Evangeline demanded, rushing back to the mirror.

Lily shook her head. "Nothing, you look incredible. Don't ever wear make-up again; it makes me look hideous standing next to you."

"Hey, you two, what do you think?" Isabelle had emerged from the bathroom, and was doing a twirl to model her costume. She was dressed as a porcelain doll, with a satiny blue dress and buckle-up shoes. Her hair was in its naturally curly state, framing a pale face with rosy cheeks and wide blue eyes. She smiled shyly, awaiting their verdict.

"You look amazing, Isa," Lily replied truthfully. The costume suited her friend to a tee.

"Perfect," agreed Evangeline.

Isabelle looked pleased. Her face, however, immediately morphed into a worried expression. "You'll sit with me tonight, right?"

"What, and cut into your alone time with lover boy?" Evangeline's face bore a mischievous grin. She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Isabelle looked around for something to throw at her friend and settled on a pillow. "Don't call him that. We're just… well, I don't know what we are, to be honest…" She trailed off, smiling wistfully.

Lily watched her friend's shining face with a hint of sadness, remembering her conversation with James from the previous day. True to her word, she hadn't divulged Remus' secret to anyone, including Isabelle. She couldn't help but wonder, however, if he ever planned on telling her. Assuming their relationship developed further, he would have to eventually… wouldn't he?

"Don't worry, we'll stick with you," Evangeline assured Isabelle. She bit her lip. "Let's just pray to everything in the galaxy that Black isn't coming."

Isabelle's face shone with excitement. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I have to go now—I told Remus I'd meet him in the common room at seven. Are you sure I look alright?"

"Yes! You're a vision! Now get down there and have a great time," Lily commanded, steering her out of the dormitory.

"And don't let him try anything funny!" Evangeline called out loudly. "Or I may just have to revert back to my Pinecone Killer days."

Isabelle stuck her head back through the doorframe. "On second thought, don't sit with me tonight. I don't want Remus thinking my friends are psychopaths."

Evangeline grinned cheerfully. "Don't worry, he figured that one out _ages _ago."

* * *

It was half past seven by the time Lily and Evangeline arrived at the party.

They made their way down the stone staircase to find that Slughorn had transformed the dungeons into a spooky sort of Halloween cavern. The chamber was darkened, lit only by orange-tinted light glowing from the twisted grins of dozens of jack-o-lanterns. The professor appeared to have hired a few attractions for the night, including a gypsy fortune teller who sat shuffling her cards in a darkened corner, and a rock band whose loud music was thumping throughout the room. Students milled about everywhere, wearing all manner of disguises—some serious, some scary, and some downright ridiculous.

"Hey, Eva, look." Lily nudged her friend and pointed toward the middle of the room, where Isabelle was dancing with Remus and looking as though she was having the time of her life. Remus was wearing what appeared to be a pirate outfit, complete with a partially unbuttoned white shirt and a red bandana tied around his untidy hair. The contrast with Isabelle's flawless costume was noticeable; they made quite the pair.

Evangeline couldn't help but smile. "Ah, they grow up so fast," she lamented, sniffing in mock sadness.

"Isn't it adorable?" Sirius had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, wearing a tuxedo and watching the couple on the dance floor with a smirk. He stood next to Lily, apparently oblivious to Evangeline's presence.

"What are you supposed to be?" Lily queried, examining his costume with a puzzled frown.

Sirius put on a solemn face and assumed a deep voice. "Black. Sirius Black. International Secret Agent." He pulled a walkie-talkie out of his pocket and held it up as though it explained everything.

"Charming," Lily replied dryly.

"I'm, uh, going to get food," Evangeline mumbled. This alerted Sirius to her presence, and there was no mistaking the awe on his face when he saw her in all her rainbow, made-up glory. His eyes followed her back as she escaped to the refreshment table.

"Hey Lily, Slughorn's looking for us." James showed up suddenly, and Lily did a double take as she admired his costume. He was wearing what appeared to be a knight's outfit, with a long, red cloak fastened around his shoulders. He held a sword lazily in his hand, letting it point toward the ground.

James, meanwhile, was looking appraisingly at Lily's dress. "Nice costume," he commented. "I almost didn't recognize you without the green."

Lily looked down at her costume, perplexed. "I don't wear green _that_ often, do I?"

Sirius and James glanced at each other. "Lily, it's practically the only colour I've ever seen you wear," Sirius informed her. "But we love you anyway. Especially Ja—"

"So… what exactly are you?" James asked Lily, cutting his friend off with a withering glare.

"An elf," she responded, tucking her hair behind her ears so that they were more visible. "See?"

Both Sirius and James looked confused.

"You don't look like any house elf I've ever seen," Sirius said.

Lily sighed. She was starting to regret having worn a costume that required so much explanation. "It's a muggle thing, never mind. What about you?" She nodded toward James' choice of clothing.

He held up his sword and put on a heroic stance. "I am Arthur Pendragon," he announced, staring intrepidly into the distance.

Sirius chuckled. "Yeah, you wish, mate."

James lowered his sword and rolled his eyes. "You're one to talk, _Agent Black_."

"Er, James? You said Slughorn was looking for us?" Lily prompted.

His eyes widened in remembrance. "Oh, yeah, c'mon—I told him I'd only be a minute."

"Fine, just abandon me then!" Sirius shouted at their backs as they hurried off to find the teacher. He sighed in annoyance. He was just going to have to find something else to entertain him for a while.

* * *

From her vantage point by the refreshment table, Evangeline watched Lily and James run off and uttered a silent curse. Now what was she supposed to do? She had barely been there five minutes and already Lily had abandoned her. Not to mention, Black had somehow been invited to the party, which was definitely not good. Already, it was shaping up to be a horrible night.

With a sigh, she reached for another cauldron cake and set about adjusting her dress, which somehow managed to feel too clingy and too loose at the same time.

"Eva!"

Taken aback by this unexpected greeting, Evangeline inhaled a piece of cake and promptly choked. As she pounded her chest and spluttered, she turned around to see Jacob Bentley standing behind her.

"Oh, hey," she wheezed, massaging her throat. It was only after the words left her mouth that she remembered she hated him. Mind you, he hadn't been _quite_ so obnoxious in potions in recent weeks. These days, he tended to leave her alone, perhaps finally having gotten the message that she wasn't interested.

In an attempt to be friendly, Eva eyed his choice of costume: black cloak, pale skin and pointy canine teeth. "Vampire?" she guessed.

Jacob looked confused for a moment. "What? Oh yeah, the costume." He allowed his gaze to sweep her from head to toe, causing her to feel slightly uncomfortable. "Uh… mermaid?" he tried, scratching his head.

Evangeline snorted, wondering where in the world he had managed to get that idea. "Er… No, actually, it's some sort of Greek goddess… Irina?"

"Ah, definitely heard of her, yep. Cool choice."

There was silence for a moment, during which Evangeline grabbed a liquorice wand.

"Er… was there something in particular you wanted?" she asked when he failed to go away.

It was as though she had shaken him from a daydream; Jacob's eyes widened as he hastened to reply. "Oh, yeah, some of us were going to start up a game of Spin the Bottle. Would you like to join?"

Evangeline's first instinct, upon hearing the name of the muggle game that had swept through the school sometime in their fifth year, was to decline the offer. When she realized, however, that she had absolutely nothing else to do, she ended up shrugging in defeat. "Sure. I guess."

Jacob looked as though Christmas had come early. "Great!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "We're just over here."

He led her over to a fair-sized group consisting mainly of Hufflepuffs, with a handful of Ravenclaws and a few Gryffindors thrown into the mix. Taking a seat on the stone floor, she allowed her eyes to trail around the circle, seeking out familiar faces. Peter Pettigrew sat at the edge of the cluster, dressed up as what looked to be a professional Quidditch player. He had one arm slung casually around the shoulders of his date, an animated Hufflepuff with white-blonde hair. Further down the way, Evangeline spotted Amos Diggory, a particularly god-like seventh year who was one of the few boys in the school capable of rivalling the Marauders in terms of looks. She allowed her eyes to continue travelling until…

They stopped cold, focusing on Sirius Black, who was sitting directly across from her.

_Oh no_.

Before she could act upon the panic rising up inside of her, however, Jacob pulled an empty butterbeer bottle off of the table beside him and said "I'll start!" with an eager grin. He set it down on the floor with a clink and rubbed his hands together excitedly before sending it into a rapid whirl.

Evangeline tried not to notice the way his eyes were glued to her in a wistful gaze, choosing instead to focus on the blur that was the spinning bottle.

_Please not me, please not me, _she begged silently.

To her relief, it slowed to a halt on Peter's date. Jacob looked slightly put out, but nonetheless rose to his feet and gave the girl a quick kiss. There were a fair few wolf whistles as he returned to his spot. Peter looked mutinous.

"Okay, play moves to the left. Your turn Eva," Jacob told her, handing over the bottle.

Numbly, Evangeline took the pointer and set it down on the ground, using her wrist to send it into a fast spin. The thing seemed to take a ridiculously long time for it to stop. The only thought going through her mind was _not Black, not Black, not Black…_

And then, finally, it began to slow down and came to a stop…

… exactly halfway between Sirius and Peter.

"Wow, that's scary," commented Amos Diggory, bending down so that his head was level with the bottle. "It's _exactly _in the middle."

Evangeline barely heard him. She was locked in an intense stare with Sirius, feeling as though all of the blood had rushed out of her body.

"Just choose one of them," Jacob told her, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. Evangeline glanced back and forth between the two boys, filled with indecision. She knew that Peter was the obvious choice, given her history with Sirius, and yet…

She glanced over at the boy, whose dark hair was falling into his stormy eyes as he stared back at her. She couldn't deny that the idea of kissing him wasn't entirely horrible.

Shaking herself, she took a deep breath. "Right… Peter, I guess," she finally said, a slight quiver in her voice. A shadow of emotion passed momentarily across Sirius' otherwise rigid face, and Eva wondered if he, too, was remembering that summer evening, two years ago, under the vibrant orange sky. The thought dredged up a swamp of suppressed memories, and she felt her own gaze harden. Dazedly, she gave Peter a quick peck, leaving him looking vaguely star-struck.

She glanced up just in time to see Sirius stand up and walk away.

* * *

As it turned out, the only reason that Slughorn had wanted to see Lily had been so that he could subject her to another one of his never-ending speeches. She and James sat politely though ten minutes of his lecture, until finally they managed to escape on the pretense of getting something to drink.

"What was the point of coming to get me?" Lily asked in exasperation as they hurried away.

James shrugged. "I figured if I was going to suffer, then you should, too," he told her with a grin.

Lily whacked him on the shoulder. "Don't ever do that again."

A sudden, rattling gasp from behind them caused both Lily and James to stop in their tracks and turn around. Half immersed in the shadows, the gypsy fortune teller had ceased her card shuffling and was staring at them with wide, pale eyes.

"Come here, children." She spoke in a hoarse, mystical voice. Lily and James glanced uneasily at one another.

"Come, _come_! Your spirits call out to me!" the woman insisted, waving them over with a knobbly hand.

Very hesitantly, wondering if perhaps she was a relative of Trelawney, they approached her table.

The woman regarded them with milky blue eyes. "This night, All Hallows Eve, is strong within you. I sense that it is of great significance. Come, give me your hands." She held her palms out in front of her.

Lily found herself strangely entranced. She obliged, reaching out to grab the woman's wrinkled hand.

The moment her skin made contact, the world fell out from underneath her feet. There was a blinding flash of light, and then she was being propelled at full speed through a whirlwind.

A moment later, her feet found the carpet in the middle of a room which she did not recognize. It was small but cosy-looking, with a worn out couch and a crackling fireplace, overtop of which sat a mantle covered in framed pictures. Despite its unfamiliarity, Lily had a distinct impression of having been there before.

Before she had time to make sense of any of this, however, there was a crash from another room, and then…

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off…"

It was James' voice, coming from elsewhere in the house. Lily was suddenly filled with an overwhelming feeling of terror. Without pausing to think, she found herself running down the hallway and lifting a bundle of blankets from a cot. The door burst open to reveal a cloaked figure, and Lily was the most terrified she had ever been in her entire life, and she was screaming hysterically.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside now."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead… Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"

There was a shrill laugh that chilled her to the bone, and she screamed as a flash of green light obscured her vision…

Lily opened her eyes and she was back at the Halloween party, staring into the face of the fortune teller and gasping for breath. She let go of the woman's hand and stumbled back, vaguely aware that James was mirroring her to her left.

For a second, she was numb, and then all of a sudden, her breath was coming out in sobs and tears were streaming down her face. She couldn't explain why the experience had affected her so intensely, but it was almost as though a part of her had died. She couldn't stop crying.

And then all of a sudden, she felt someone take her hand and pull her along until the noise from the party had faded out. She looked up through her tears to see that it had been James.

"D-did you see it?" she asked through her sobs.

James nodded, and it was then that Lily noticed that there were tears running down his face, too. He took a shuddering breath. "It was awful. I felt like I lost... everything."

Lily nodded, sniffling.

"C'mere," James said, pulling her into a hug. Lily didn't even think twice—just wrapped her arms around his back and allowed herself to cry into his chest, her sobs echoing through the deserted corridor.

* * *

**A/N: **Nope, you're not hallucinating. I actually managed a semi-quick update! It's a miracle!

Thank you everyone for your reviews on the last chapter and for your feedback on the OC relationships. It's nice to know I haven't been forgotten!

Reviews make me a very happy person, and you know what that means… more writing! So please leave one and let me know what you thought. :)

-Liz


	11. Under the Willow Tree

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J. K. R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and... well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Under the Willow Tree**

A shrill scream echoed through a dark room.

Lily woke with a jolt and sat bolt upright, gasping for breath. It was a moment or two before it dawned on her that the scream had been her own; she could still feel it burning in the back of her throat.

Panting, she squinted across the dimly lit space. Silvery threads of moonlight streamed through a rectangular window, casting an eerie glow on the sparse amount of furniture and reflecting through the cracked mirror on the other side of the chamber.

_The Heads' Room,_ it took her a moment to recall.

Four nights had elapsed since Halloween, and each one had left Lily plagued with vivid nightmares. Screams for mercy and bright flashes of emerald light invaded her dreams on a nightly basis, and nothing seemed to be able to stop them. The sleeping potion that Madam Pomfrey had given her had merely intensified the nightmares, and even Evangeline's sworn-by remedy of warm milk mixed with pumpkin juice had done nothing but put Lily off of the orange drink indefinitely.

Several hours ago, she had gathered her things in a fit of frustration and traipsed down to the Heads' room, fed up with it all. She had hoped that perhaps a change of scenery would help her get some rest.

Evidently, it had not.

Feeling her breathing beginning to slow, Lily swung her legs around the side of the bed and rose to her feet. She padded over to the window and stared out at the shadowy school grounds, her face illuminated by the silver beams of the moon. The black lake stood glassily still in the night, a smooth, unbroken surface underneath the stars. She gazed at the pinpoints of reflected light, allowing her mind to wander.

In just four days, her memory of what had happened on Halloween night had somehow begun to fade. Strange as it seemed, the details of the vision were slipping away, leaving behind nothing but a faint residue fear and remorse. It was impossible to recall exactly what she had seen that had affected her so much. What she did remember, however, was that somehow the vision had been linked to James—a fact which confused her beyond measure. Why had he been such an important part of it? Had he seen what she had seen? Did he remember?

Lily felt her knuckles curling around the edge of the windowsill in frustration. She wanted answers. She needed…

Her breath caught in her throat as a twinkling streak of silver shot across the night sky. _A shooting star,_ she marvelled, the celestial flash reflecting in the emerald irises of her eyes. In a moment of childhood reminiscence, her eyelids fluttered shut, and she found herself wishing for some sort of explanation. Maybe it was stupid, but at this stage, she was simply desperate to prove to herself that she wasn't losing her mind.

Lily knew there was no point in returning to bed now—her brain was far too active. She found herself walking instead down the darkened hallway which led to the kitchen, seeking a glass of water to soothe her throat. When she reached the end of the corridor, she was engulfed in a profound blanket of darkness; the rays of moonlight could not reach the kitchen in its window-less state. Lily stuck a hand into her non-existent pocket with the intention of casting a lighting charm, and cursed when she remembered that her wand was back on her bedside table. She turned around and began retracing her footsteps, holding her arms out like wings in order to locate a wall and get her bearings.

Unfortunately, the first thing her fingers found was not a wall, or even anything remotely solid. It was smooth and glassy, and it gave away as soon as she leaned into it, plunging down onto the wooden floor. A deafening smash ricocheted off the walls, and Lily gasped.

"Damn it!" she hissed, feeling hundreds of tiny fragments hit her bare legs.

As she stood amidst the debris, wondering what she should do, she heard something that sent her heart racing. Footsteps were fast approaching, squeaky on the wooden floor of the hallway. Lily held her breath, her body seized up in terror. _There shouldn't be anyone else here! _her brain screamed. Images of psycho killers flashed across her mind.

"_Lumos_!"

A brilliant flash of light flooded the tiny kitchen, and Lily screamed, temporarily blinded by its intensity. As her vision returned, however, she began to make out an outline of a distinctly masculine form standing in the hallway.

Her mouth dropped open in shock, and simultaneous waves of relief and horror somehow crashed over her at once.

James Potter stood before her, holding out his wand and clad in only a pair of black pyjama pants. Lily's breath caught in her throat as her eyes travelled along his bare chest, admiring his body of their own accord. He was toned, but not overly so, with a lean figure and defined musculature across his abdomen; evidently, all that Quidditch training had paid off. With his severely rumpled hair and bleary eyes, he looked as though he had just rolled out of bed. A warm feeling began to spread through Lily's stomach, and she clenched her teeth. _Stupid hormones._

"_Lily?_ What are you doing here?" James exclaimed, bewildered. Lily didn't miss the way his eyes travelled down her body as he spoke. She glanced down and felt her heart skip a beat when she saw nothing but a skimpy tank top that revealed a good portion of her midriff and short pyjama bottoms.

_Oh my god, _she thought, cringing. She tugged at her top in an attempt to make it show less skin, but merely succeeded in pulling in down to reveal more cleavage. James' eyebrows shot up. Cheeks burning, Lily folded her arms across her chest, feeling horribly exposed in the bright wandlight.

"What are _you _doing here?" she countered stupidly, wishing desperately for the return of the cover of darkness.

As if hearing her plea, James lowered his wand. In doing so, a thousand shards of glass twinkled from where they littered the floor. He reached a hand up to the back of his head, flexing his muscles in a way that made Lily's head spin.

"Haven't been sleeping well," he told her, yawning. "Doesn't really help that Sirius snores like a pig, so… I came here instead. Figured I'd get some peace and quiet this way."

His words went straight over Lily's head, which was otherwise occupied. She felt like slapping herself. _What are you, a sex-crazed fifteen-year-old? Stop ogling him and get a grip!_

She was so busy talking to herself that she barely even noticed when James muttered "_Reparo",_ sending the shards of glass up into the air like a backward waterfall until they reformed a delicate glass vase on the counter.

Lily blinked. "Thanks," she said vaguely, distracted by the way his chest rose and fell as he breathed.

James cleared his throat. "You never answered my question. What _are _you doing here?"

Lily crossed her arms tighter across her chest, trying to determine the best way to respond. "Same as you," she finally admitted. "I haven't been able to sleep properly either. Not since…"

James drew in a breath. "Halloween."

"Yeah." Lily fiddled with the hem of her shirt for a moment, before realizing that she was drawing James' attention to her bare abdominal area. She ceased immediately, reddening. "I don't… I can't even remember what happened anymore."

"Me neither," James answered, and it was then that Lily realized that they had been speaking in whispers. He gazed into her eyes, pensive. "I was thinking about what my mum used to tell me about Gypsy fortune tellers, though, and it kind of makes sense."

Lily raised her eyebrows in interest.

"Apparently, their magic is different from ours. It's really concentrated or something—centres mainly on time and energy. Anyway, loads of witches and wizards used to go to them to have their fortunes told… until they realized that the memory always faded away a few days later. No one really knows why, but a lot of people think it's sort of an in-built precaution so that you can't change your destiny. Whatever happens, happens; that kind of thing."

"Wait." Lily felt numb. "You don't think…"

James met her eyes, and there was a moment of intensity between them before he finished her sentence. "… she showed us our futures?"

His words hung in the air for a moment, pressing down upon them.

"No," Lily forced out with conviction. "I mean, it could have been anything, right?"

James nodded. "I reckon she was just trying to scare us. Slow night on the job so she found a way to get her kicks. Miserable old hag."

"James!"

"What? I haven't slept properly in bloody days because of that stupid vision!" he said. "Merlin, I wish I could just forget about it."

"Well, you shouldn't have to try too hard at the rate things are going."

"True."

Lily couldn't think of anything else to say, and contented herself to remaining silent. After a few moments, however, a feeling of uncomfortableness began to settle around them.

"Kumquat," James said randomly.

"Excuse me?"

"Sirius says that whenever there's an awkward silence, you should say 'kumquat'," he explained.

Lily wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, that has Sirius written all over it."

"It sort of worked, though," James said with a shrug. He fidgeted. "Anyway, I guess I'll… go back to bed."

"Me too," Lily agreed. She turned around, and then realized that the corridor had become lost in a sea of darkness. "Er…"

"Here." James was by her side in an instant, holding out his wand. "I'll lead you back. Don't want you smashing anything else to smithereens."

"Haha." Lily's tone was sarcastic, but in truth she was grateful for his offer, and in less than a minute, they were standing at the threshold to her room. Maybe it was the thought of sleeping in such close proximity to James, but there was something distinctly awkward about the situation. Lily pushed her hair behind her ears.

"Thanks," she murmured, looking up at his face and feeling her stomach flutter.

James looked slightly red-cheeked. "No worries. 'Night, Lily."

"Goodnight, James," she whispered, watching his bare back retreat down to the other end of the hallway and disappear.

A minute or two later, as she lay in bed mulling over what he had told her about Gypsy fortune tellers, she glanced out the window and remembered the shooting star.

It was then that she realized: She had gotten her answer. She just wasn't sure it was the one that she wanted to hear.

* * *

Double Potions was first on the schedule for all Gryffindor seventh years the next day, and for the first time in her life, Lily actually contemplated skipping class. Her prolonged lack of sleep had finally caught up with her, and the thought of leaving her nice, warm bed in the morning seemed equivalent to willingly submitting to torture. In the end, however, her inner nerd got the best of her and she dragged herself out from her cosy haven to take a shower. It was only as she stood beneath the scalding water that she remembered last night's midnight rendezvous, and gasped out loud.

_James was here… Wait! He might _still _be here! Oh Merlin, I'm in the shower!_

She all but flung herself out from beneath the water and wrapped a towel securely around her body, heart racing. This made her feel somewhat better. After dressing at light speed and shoving her hair into a quick ponytail, she raced out of the bathroom, only to discover that James had already gone. The resulting sense of relief was almost enough to overshadow her panic when she realized that she had only seven minutes to get to class.

James was forgotten and breakfast was tragically sacrificed, but the whirlwind that was Lily miraculously managed to collapse into her chair in the dungeons just as Professor Slughorn walked though the door.

The day rapidly went downhill from there, however. As the lesson progressed, Lily's mood became as black as the substance bubbling away in her cauldron. It was just her luck that Slughorn had assigned them one of the most ridiculously complicated potions in the book to brew. It didn't really help, either, that having Sirius as a potions partner was akin to asking a five-year-old to assist in brain surgery. Lily generally found herself doing the majority of the work in practical classes, simply because Sirius found the idea of blowing things up more appealing than receiving a passing grade.

The real problem, however, was neither the potion nor Sirius' idiocy. It was, in fact, sitting directly to Lily's right, and it took the form of her dorm mate, Skye Linley. The tall blonde was James' potions partner, and there was a little too much giggling going on over there for Lily's liking. She found herself stealing glances at the pair out of the corner of her eye every so often, feeling her blood temperature rise with every glimpse.

"Sirius, can you pass me that jar of beetles?" she snapped, flipping a page in her textbook and holding out her other hand impatiently.

"What's the magic word?" Sirius replied, grinning like the idiot that he was.

Lily clenched her teeth. "Go to hell."

"That's not—"

"_Give me the sodding beetles, Black!_"

"Alright, alright." Sirius pushed the jar lazily in her direction. "There. Happy?"

Lily's response was a withering glare. She yanked the container toward her and unscrewed the lid, sweeping her hair away from her face and dropping exactly three of the shiny black insects into the potion in quick succession. Instantly, the liquid became crystal clear.

She glanced over at Sirius, who was chomping on a liquorice wand that he seemed to have procured out of midair. "Do you plan on helping, _ever_?" she questioned, irritated.

"Well, considering the last time I tried to do something you told me to sit down and shut up…"

Lily made a scoffing noise. "You were trying to shred the lacewings when the book _distinctly said—_"

Skye appeared beside her suddenly, clutching her sides and fighting to speak through laughter. "Lily, can we borrow your textbook for a second? James just spilled ink all over ours." She giggled as though it was the funniest thing in the world.

"Yeah, sure, knock yourself out," Lily replied flatly, handing the heavy book over to Skye and secretly hoping that she would take that advice literally.

The blonde was oblivious to her evil thoughts. "Thanks Lily! You're the best. Oi, James! I got a new one!"

Watching as she skipped back over to her cauldron, Lily squeezed her quill so hard that it snapped in half. She growled under her breath and turned around to get a different one out of her bag, but stopped when she noticed Sirius staring at her with a smug expression on his face.

"What?" she snapped.

Sirius smirked, leaning back in his chair. "You're jealous."

"What?" Lily sputtered. "Why would I be jealous of you?"

"Not me." Sirius shook his head impatiently. "_Her_." He nodded toward Skye, who was flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder and smiling at James.

Completely taken aback, Lily opened her mouth and let out a stream of inarticulate blabber, ending in: "Psh, no I'm not!"

"Lily, no offence or anything, but it's completely obvious."

"I am not jealous of Skye!"

"Okay, fine, but _if you were_…" he carried on, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "I feel obliged to tell you that you really needn't be."

Lily's couldn't deny that her interest was piqued by this statement. "Why not?" she demanded, and then hastened to add: "I mean, hypothetically."

Sirius let his chair fall back onto all four legs, bringing him closer to Lily, and expelled a deep sigh. "Look, he'd probably kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but… James really has been in love with you for years, Lily."

At this, Lily felt her insides freeze. The statement filled her with a strange emotion which she was unable to identify, but which scared the living daylights out of her. "You're out of your mind, Sirius," she told him shakily. "Maybe he's asked me out a few too many times, but everyone knows he never meant it seriously."

Sirius groaned in frustration. "But that's what you don't understand! Why do you think he stuck with it all these years?"

"I dunno, because he liked the thrill of the chase or something…"

"He likes _you, _Lily. Really likes you. And I should know—I've had to put up with him going on about it for practically my entire life."

Despite herself, Lily looked over at James. He caught her gaze and sent her a smile, and she couldn't help but notice that it made her pulse quicken. Sending him a small grin in return, she marvelled at the way her feelings for him had changed lately. A part of her hoped that Sirius was telling the truth, and then another part of her smashed the former with an imaginary club; denial was not a pretty thing.

"This conversation is over, Sirius." She turned back to face him and crossed her arms with sullen resolve.

Sirius let out another frustrated growl. "Fine," he conceded grudgingly. "But one day, when you and James are happily married, I'll be right there saying 'I told you so'. Also corrupting your bespectacled ginger children."

Rolling her eyes, Lily snorted automatically. "The chances of that happening are less than zero, trust me."

Perhaps showing some intelligence for once in his life, Sirius chose not to respond, and they worked in relative silence for the next ten or so minutes. Lily couldn't help but notice that the storm cloud above her head had dispersed somewhat after their conversation, and she found this rather irritating; she didn't want her mood to be influenced by anything Potter-related. Nevertheless, it was undeniable that Skye's continuous stream of giggles no longer made her want to strangle the girl. After all, she had never had anything against Skye, apart from the fact that she was rather loud and sometimes acted a bit ditzy. She was actually very friendly, come to think of it.

Suddenly, a loud rap on the door drew her attention. She snapped her head up to see Professor McGonagall standing framed in the entryway, looking drawn. The woman cleared her throat.

"Excuse me, Horace. I need to borrow Miss Hansen and Mister Black," she said, and there was something in the tone of her voice that Lily found unsettling.

Slughorn, who clearly didn't share Lily's suspicions, gave a friendly nod and waved his hand. "By all means, Minerva, go ahead."

Evangeline shot a quick, confused glance at Sirius, who appeared to be equally perturbed. They made to rise from their respective seats, but McGonagall cut in curtly.

"I would suggest that you bring your belongings with you," she advised.

Evangeline looked pale as she shoved her belongings carelessly into her bag. Sirius stood up without a word, mouth set in a tight line, and the pair followed McGonagall out of the classroom, disappearing into the hallway.

Lily stared at the empty doorframe for a few seconds too long after their departure, chewing her lip anxiously. What could Professor McGonagall have wanted the two of them for? The word _expulsion _floated into her thoughts, but she suppressed it quickly. It made no sense; Eva and Sirius had barely spoken to one another in over a month, so there had been no fights or out of control duels to blacken their records in recent weeks.

Nonetheless, Lily fretted throughout the rest of the lesson, and even Slughorn's exclamation of "Practically perfect, Miss Evans!" when she turned in her potion was not enough to pull her thoughts from Evangeline. She was so out of it, in fact, that she forgot to wait up for Isabelle after class and was halfway to Charms by the time she realized that she had left her behind.

Annoyed with herself, she turned on her heel and marched back down to the dungeons. However, when she arrived, the room was completely deserted and Isabelle was nowhere to be seen. Figuring she must have already been on her way to class, Lily sighed and began plodding back the other way, feeling rather like a ping-pong ball caught in a slow-motion match. She came to an abrupt halt, however, when she saw a flash of telltale blonde ringlets inside a random classroom on her right. Without pausing to think about why Isabelle would be in an empty classroom in the middle of the day, Lily waltzed into the room…

… and let out a monstrous gasp.

It was Isabelle, alright, but she was not alone. In fact, she was locked in a rather passionate embrace with Remus Lupin, who had his back pressed up against the wall and his arms wound around her back. A few highly uncomfortable seconds passed before the couple noticed Lily's presence. When Remus' eyes, however, shifted sideways and caught sight of the stunned redhead, his brows shot up in panic and he broke away from Isabelle, who in turn spun around in confusion.

There was a gasp, followed by a horribly pregnant silence as they stared at one another—Isabelle and Remus managing to appear both stunned and sheepish in their mildly dishevelled state and Lily resembling some sort of demented codfish with her mouth hanging open. The seconds ticked by and Lily racked her brain for something to say that would rectify the situation. Unfortunately, her frozen mind failed to provide her with anything coherent, and she began to panic.

"Kumquat!" she blurted out loudly, and Isabelle and Remus both jumped a little at the unexpected sound. The use of her vocal chords seemed to spark something in the distant, rational area of Lily's brain, however, because she began to regain some of her ability to speak in complete sentences. "I mean, never mind!" she exclaimed, cringing. "I'll just… go. Carry on with…" Awkwardly, her voice faded away to nothing. With one final look of despair, she gave up and bolted from the room.

Back inside, Isabelle had a hand over her mouth. "Do you think she's alright?" she asked dubiously.

Remus, who looked vaguely amused, shrugged and pulled her closer. "In the head? I'm not so sure."

With a quirk of her right eyebrow, Isabelle shot him an unimpressed look.

"I take it back!" Remus said hastily. "She's a perfectly eloquent human being with excellent taste in friends."

Isabelle grinned. "Good answer."

Instead of replying, Remus leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers again.

Smiling against his lips, Isabelle happily reciprocated.

* * *

The moment Evangeline stepped into Professor McGonagall's office, she knew that something had to be horribly wrong.

Instead of the lecture or punishment which she had been expecting, she was faced with a sight that made her stomach turn to lead. Her brother was sitting on the edge of a large, wooden chair, looking as pale as a ghost underneath his freckles. Adjacent to him sat a sullen, dark-haired teenager who bore a distinct resemblance to Sirius, but lacked his good looks: Regulus Black.

"Please, sit." McGonagall's tone was terse as she pointed out two vacant chairs and swiftly positioned herself behind her desk. Evangeline obeyed numbly, finding it hard to breathe. She glanced over at Ethan, who caught her eye with a frightened expression. Evangeline tried to send him a reassuring smile, but her face would not obey, and in the end she gave up.

The professor took a deep breath and, as though reading their minds, said curtly: "Your families are fine."

Evangeline let out the breath that she had been holding in a wave of relief. She could feel her heart pounding in hers ears.

Still, McGonagall wore an atypically sympathetic expression as she carried on. "They have asked me, however, to inform you that Mrs. Ambrosia Bright passed away this morning." She paused, and then added: "You have my deepest condolences."

Evangeline's hand flew to her mouth. Mrs. Bright was an elderly woman who had lived across the street from her family ever since she had been born. She had been what could only be described as a surrogate grandmother to the Hansen children, and to Sirius and his brother. Eva and Sirius had spent many a summer evening climbing the willow tree in her backyard and sitting around her table for cups of lemonade. Even now that she was older, Evangeline had always found time to stop by for a cup of tea and a chat whenever she was home—Mrs. Bright was a particularly good listener. Or rather, Evangeline thought as a lump rose in her throat, _had been_.

Unexpectedly, tears stung in her eyes as she tried to make sense of the news. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Sirius looking at her, and without thinking, she turned her head to regard him tearfully. For a moment their gazes connected with something powerful —a sea of churned up memories—and then Evangeline's vision blurred so much that she was forced to blink, sending two droplets of water rolling down her cheeks. She looked away.

"How did it happen?" It was Regulus who spoke these words. The slight teenager was sitting back in his chair carelessly, looking almost bored. He had never been particularly close to Mrs. Bright—or to his own brother, for that matter.

Professor McGonagall frowned, a deep crease etching into her brow. "I don't know as you should hear it from me," she told them, "but given that the story will most likely make the front page of tomorrow's Prophet, I feel justified in telling you. Mrs. Bright was murdered in her home."

"What?" Evangeline's strangled cry reverberated throughout the room. She wiped the tears off of her cheeks self-consciously when she realized that everyone was staring at her, and added: "How is that… how is that possible?"

In a gesture of uncharacteristic compassion, McGonagall offered her a handkerchief. "These are dark times we're headed into," she said, her tone grave. "As I'm sure you are aware, Ambrosia was actively involved in the fight against dark magic; she was an auror in her time—one of the first women to pursue the profession."

Evangeline nodded, and dread began to well up inside of her; she had a fair idea of where this was headed.

Indeed, McGonagall's next words did nothing but confirm her fears. "They found the Dark Mark over her house this morning," the professor told them. "It is likely that You-Know-Who was behind the attack."

Evangeline let her eyes fall shut. She had heard rumours about Voldemort, of course, but never had he seemed as real as he did in that moment.

"But, our parents…" Ethan's face was even paler than usual as he spoke these words, trailing off into silence.

"I assure you, they are fine," McGonagall said firmly. "The ministry has already performed a search of the neighbourhood and proclaimed it safe, for the time being."

Ethan nodded, and Evangeline caught his gaze across the room, this time managing to smile reassuringly through the wetness in her eyes.

"The funeral is scheduled for tomorrow, and your families have given you permission to attend. Given the circumstances, however, Professor Dumbledore has agreed that you may return to your homes today. I presume this won't be an issue?"

There were expressions of accord all around, which Evangeline couldn't help but notice came very hesitantly in Sirius' case.

Without another word, McGonagall rose from her chair and pulled a small silk bag off of the mantelpiece. The teenagers followed suit, and soon enough they were gathered around the fireplace, a cluster of solemn expressions and stooped stances. The professor offered the bag to Sirius first, who grabbed a fistful of Floo powder with an air resembling dread settling onto his handsome face. Within moments, he had been engulfed by a blanket of jade green flames and sent on his way home. Regulus was next, and then McGonagall turned to Evangeline.

"Thanks," she said softly, taking a moderate amount of powder and feeling it filter lightly through the cracks in her fingers as she stepped into the fireplace. Filled with a void of numbness, it was all she could do to keep her voice steady. "Eleven Grimmauld Place," she managed to utter, dropping the fine particles into the pile of ash at her feet. In an instant, the flames rose around her and she was whisked away, tear-tracks drying in the hot wind as she headed home.

* * *

"Argh!"

From where she sat on her bed in the girls' dormitories, surrounded by study notes, Lily let out a shriek and jumped up, sending bits of parchment flying everywhere. Something large, warm and heavy had just landed on her head.

"What the…?" Rubbing her neck and looking around, she spotted the perpetrator. An enormous tawny owl was nestled into her pillow, sporting a comparatively tiny letter tied to its leg and looking quite at home. "Pudge?" she said, momentarily confused until she realized that there was an open window on the other side of the room.

The owl gave a low hoot in response to its name and held its foot out despite its comically cozy-looking position. Lily's heart gave a leap and she hurried to untie the bit of parchment. Pudge was Evangeline's owl, and this could only be an explanation as to where she had been all day.

_Dear Lily & Isa,_

_You can call off any search parties you might have sent out after me—I'm fine. Actually, I'm at home. Mrs. Bright (you know that nice neighbour who gave you cookies last summer and said that Lily looked like a Christmas decoration?) passed away this morning, so I'm back with the family for a couple of days to go to the funeral._

_It's actually really upsetting—I don't know if I should be saying this in a letter, but she was murdered. Killing curse, Dark Mark and everything. I've already cried a humiliating number of today and it's not getting much better. Mum's in a state—she and Mrs. Bright were really close, and she keeps bursting into tears at the smallest things. Dad keeps going on about how the ministry should have seen it coming and put her house under protection, and then that just makes Mum even more upset. Ethan's been handling the whole thing fairly well, but I did catch him looking a bit teary-eyed earlier._

_I should be back at Hogwarts in a couple of days. _

_Love always,_

_Eva_

Lily had just finished reading when the door swung open and Isabelle waltzed into the dorm. Seemingly unaware that she had company, she removed her jacket, humming lightly, and then fell backwards onto her bed.

"Do I even need to ask where you've been?"

Isabelle sat up so quickly at Lily's words that she almost fell off of her mattress. "Oh, Lily, it's just you." Her cheeks reddened a little as, presumably, she remembered the events from earlier in the day. "Hey, about this morning…"

"Sorry about that," Lily hastened to say, guilt evident in her eyes. "I don't know why I—"

"No, don't apologize." Isabelle shook her head. "It's not like it was your fault." She gave a sheepish grin, and Lily found the corners of her mouth twitching upward in return. Within seconds, they were both giggling at the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

In between bouts of laughter, Isabelle managed to gasp, "Kumquat?"

Lily grimaced; she had been trying to erase that little lapse of brain function from her memory. "It's difficult to think clearly when you're being scarred for life."

"Hey!" Isabelle aimed a pillow at her friend and threw it, off-target by about a metre. A loud, indignant squawk rang out and both girls glanced down to see Pudge, ruffled and irritated, righting himself on the floor. They ceased laughing at once.

"Sorry, Pudge! Oh, that was awful," Isabelle gasped. "Wait… Pudge? What's he doing here?"

Suddenly solemn, Lily picked up the letter from where it sat behind her and handed it over. "Eva sent this. It just got here." She watched as Isabelle's eyes skimmed over the words and as she clapped a hand to her mouth.

When she finished reading, Isabelle raised her eyes to meet Lily's. "That's… terrible," she muttered.

Lily bit her lip, nodding in agreement. Suddenly chilled, she pulled the sleeves of her jacket down and tucked her hands inside, gripping the edges of the fabric. "Scary, though, isn't it? I mean, she lived right across the road. To think of her being…" She couldn't even say it.

The girls reflected in silence for a moment, and the atmosphere became progressively gloomier as the seconds ticked by. Feeling herself beginning to suffocate under the shadow of darkness, Lily pushed herself off of the bed and stood up with resolve. "Come on, let's send her something to cheer her up," she suggested, moving over to her desk and pulling a roll of parchment out of the drawer.

"Good idea," Isabelle agreed. "I think I have some chocolate frogs in my trunk—I'll go find them."

"Yes! If chocolate doesn't do the trick, I don't know what will."

At these words, Isabelle stopped in her tracks. A smile began to spread across her face as she muttered "But I do…"

"What?" Lily inquired, puzzled.

Without replying, Isabelle made a beeline for Evangeline's bed, pulling back the covers and rifling through the sheets as though searching for something.

"What is it?" Lily asked again, more agitated this time. She craned her neck to the point of pain, attempting to figure out what her friend was up to. "Her pillow? I don't really think—"

"Aha!" Isabelle stood up, shaking something out of a balled-up sheet. When the fabric fell to the floor, a greying ball of fur was revealed, clutched loosely in her hand.

"Griggins!" Lily gasped, eyes filled with delight. "Isa, you're a genius!"

Old and greying though he was, Griggins was Evangeline's most beloved stuffed dog from childhood. With his patchy fur and missing eye, Lily often joked that he resembled more of a mutant alien-pig than anything of the canine variety, and Isabelle had poked fun at Eva more than once for her childish attachment to the thing. Jokes aside, however, they both knew how much the toy meant to their friend, and never had there been a time when she needed him more than right then.

Grinning, Lily took Griggins from Isabelle. "This is perfect."

Twenty minutes later, they had assembled a care package filled with a ridiculously long letter, half a dozen chocolate frogs and, of course, the beloved Griggins. Having coaxed a reluctant Pudge from his haven on Lily's bed, they attached the surprisingly light package to his leg with a bit of string and then paused to examine the bird for a moment.

"Do you think he can handle it?" Lily asked, eyeing the bundle with uncertainty. "I mean, he is quite large for an owl, I suppose."

Isabelle's lips twisted into a doubtful shape. "I don't know," she said, rather hesitantly.

With a screech that startled both girls, Pudge unfurled his wings and soared up to the ceiling, circling the room a couple of times before descending and landing gracefully on the carpet, chest puffed out.

Lily and Isabelle exchanged expressions of amusement and surprise. "I guess that answers that question," Isabelle commented, stroking the owl's wing with one finger.

They released Pudge through the window just as the sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow over the school grounds below. For a few minutes, both girls were content merely to watch the bird's retreating silhouette against the vibrant sky in silence; it had certainly been a very strange day, and there was a lot to occupy their minds as evening descended.

"Hey Lily?" Isabelle's voice was soft, with a tinge of apprehensiveness.

"Hmm?"

"I've been meaning to ask…" She looked down. "Remus is going to watch the Quidditch practice this evening and he invited me to come with him. D'you want to join us?"

Lily, who was somewhat taken aback by the invitation, took a moment to find her voice. "Er… Are you sure?" she questioned uncertainly. "Wouldn't you rather be alone?"

Turning back to face the sunset, Isabelle drew in a breath. "I feel like I've hardly seen you today," she admitted, looking troubled. "I don't want everything to change now that Remus and I are..."

"Isa." Lily smiled, and Isabelle met her eyes again. "I'm really happy for you, seriously. You don't have to do me any favours. I'm fine—I'll just stay here and do homework."

Following this statement, Isabelle's face morphed into an expression of horror and she shook her head. "Nuh-uh, that's it." She grabbed Lily's hand and pulled her toward the door. "There is no way I'm letting you do that. You're coming, and that's that."

"What? It's now? But I have to finish my essay for Professor Binns!" Desperately, Lily fought against her friend's hold and reached for her abandoned quill. Unfortunately for her, Isabelle was a lot stronger than she appeared. With one final yank, she managed to simultaneously drag Lily through the doorframe and pull the door shut behind them.

"Trust me," she said, tightening her grip on Lily's arm, "you'll thank me for this someday."

* * *

The sky had already darkened considerably by the time the girls made it to the Quidditch pitch. To compensate for this, the stadium had been lit by seven enormous light posts which shone brilliantly from above, casting an almost ethereal glow over the entire area. These evening practices, Lily gathered, had been a result of the clashing schedules of the Gryffindor team, owing partially to the fact that their captain was Head Boy. Apparently, Dumbledore had taken pity on James' heavy class load and extra duties by allowing the team to practice after hours—something that had previously been unheard of.

Lily couldn't deny that she felt considerably uneasy as she and Isabelle approached the sports ground. They had, admittedly, made it out of the castle without significant hassle, and yet she was very aware that it was probably against the rules for them to be outdoors so late in the evening. The sounds of crickets in the bushes were merely a reminder of the late hour, and Lily found herself becoming more and more anxious with every chirp.

"Isa…" she said, tugging on her friend's sleeve. "Are you sure we're allowed to be here?"

In response, Isabelle made a dramatic show of rolling her eyes. "Lily, Relax," she told her. "Remus watches practices all the time, and he's never gotten detention or anything. Come on."

Still not thoroughly convinced, Lily trailed behind nervously as they entered the pitch. There was something else on her mind that seemed to heighten her sense of apprehension. Or rather, _someone_. Squinting against the blinding lights, she found her eyes sweeping the deserted field for a familiar head of dark hair.

"Hey."

Lily's search was interrupted by the casual greeting, and she turned her head to see Remus sitting by the barrier, hands shoved into the pockets of his dark jacket. Beside him was Peter, who was leaning over the rail eagerly, awaiting the entrance of the players.

Isabelle sat down next to Remus, her lips melding into a shy smile as she returned his greeting, and Lily averted her eyes in a mixture of amusement and exasperation when the sandy-haired Marauder pulled her friend into a kiss. Reminded of the Kumquat Incident, she began to feel horribly out of place as she took a reluctant seat on the worn, wooden bench. It was already clear that she was going to be a serious victim of Third Wheel Syndrome this evening. Although, Pettigrew was there… did that make her a fourth wheel? Did that even make sense?

Perhaps sensing Lily's uncomfortableness, Remus stretched his neck over Isabelle's head and spared her a grin. "Hi, Lily," he said. "I didn't realize you were into Quidditch?"

"I'm not," came her automatic reply.

Remus chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "Neither am I," he told her. "Try telling that to James, though."

Startled at the way the mere mention of his name sent shivers down her spine, Lily did nothing but crack a weak half-smile.

"I abducted her," Isabelle clarified for Remus' sake, grinning as he put his arm around her shoulders. "I had to save her from spending the whole night alone with her Potions book."

"Haha," Lily deadpanned. "It was a History of Magic essay, actually, and it's due next week."

"Come on, Lily, live a little. You've still got heaps of time," Remus commented lightly.

One of Lily's eyebrows twitched in irritation. "You're one to talk," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "I'm willing to bet yours is already done and dusted."

Guiltily, Remus gave a non-committal shrug. "Well… yeah," he admitted. "But I didn't exactly have much else to occupy me while I was in the Hospital Wing last w—" He stopped cold, face paling as he realized his mistake. Unintentionally, Lily met his eyes, and a flicker of understanding passed between them, causing Remus' brow to contract in confusion and something resembling dread.

"You were in the Hospital Wing?" Isabelle queried, gazing into his face with concern. "When? What happened?"

"I…" Remus, who was still staring dazedly in Lily's direction, shook his head as though to clear it. "I had a bad cold. Nothing serious."

"Here they come!" This excited announcement came from Peter, who, from his position by the barrier, was totally oblivious to the conversation taking place behind him. He was referring, of course, to the Gryffindor team, the members of which had just emerged from the dressing rooms in a small cluster and were making their way to the centre of the field. Lily was reminded of Sirius' absence when she counted only six players and, for a moment, her thoughts drifted to Evangeline.

Her heart, however, gave a little jolt when she caught sight of James at the head of the group, quaffle tucked under one arm and broomstick held in the other. She watched, transfixed, as he gave a few words of instruction to his team and then kicked off into the air, setting off on a warm-up lap around the stadium. Lily couldn't help but admire the grace with which he flew, the elegant form of his back, the way he turned the corners with such fluidity; it was clear that he was just as at home in the air as he was with his feet on solid ground.

As he sped around the corner in a fast approach, James' head jerked suddenly and his eyes zeroed in on Lily, causing him to react in a colossal double take. His mouth fell into a gaping expression of shock as his broom slowed, seemingly unintentionally, to an almost-halt in front of her. Unprepared for this reaction, Lily stared back for a moment and then looked down, tucking her long hair behind her ears self-consciously as she warmed under his gaze.

A few seconds later, all five of James' team mates shot past his stationary figure, overtaking him in their circuit. This seemed to wake him from his daze. Shaking himself, he started to pick up speed again, shooting Lily one last incredulous glance over his shoulder as he moved away.

Feeling oddly lightheaded, Lily glanced to her right and noticed Isabelle, Remus and Peter fixing her with similarly meaningful looks.

"I don't think James was expecting to see you here." Peter stated the obvious with a spark of glee in his pale eyes.

Remus pointed a finger toward the edge of the pitch, looking amused. "Watch, he'll show off extra hard now."

Perfectly on cue, James executed an impressive swerve around the goalposts and proceeded to plunge toward the ground with incredible speed, levelling off right before he surely would have crashed.

Red-faced and flustered, Lily resigned herself to silence, irritated at the knowing smiles that were being exchanged beside her and yet unable to come up with a decent argument to smother them.

She was surprised, however, at how quickly the practice flew by after that. Reluctant as she was to admit it, her eyes did not leave James even once over the course of the hour—there was something about watching him fly that made it impossible to look away. She found herself picking up on little quirks that she had never noticed before: the way he preferred his left hand to his right, the way his eyes would glint with determination whenever he saw an opportunity to intercept a pass, the way he drummed his fingers against the handle of his broom while he was giving his team a pep talk.

For what it was worth, James seemed to be equally transfixed by Lily's presence, often stealing glimpses in her direction when he thought he was far enough away that she wouldn't notice. The trouble was, she _did _notice, and with every connection between their eyes, she would receive an accompanying jolt of tingly electricity.

When the practice concluded and the players descended from the air, Lily was almost disappointed that it had come to an end. With her mind still replaying some of James' more spectacular aerial manoeuvres, she rose from the bench, following the intermittent laughter of Isabelle and Remus but not particularly paying attention to what they were saying or where they were headed. It was only as they came to a halt outside the change rooms that Lily realized what was going on and felt her heart thud against her ribcage. She had very little time to react, however, before the door was swinging open and James was emerging, calling back over his shoulder: "Oi, see you guys on Monday. And Fletcher, keep practising that reverse pass, yeah?" He readjusted the strap of his sports bag and let the door fall shut, tensing his muscles in a way that drew Lily's eyes to his slightly damp T-shirt where it clung to his chest.

"Great practice, James!" Peter enthused, rushing forward.

James grinned, but his attention was elsewhere. "Thanks, Wormy," he replied absently. As he spoke these words, his eyes found Lily where she was standing with her arms crossed, and he shook his head in bemusement. "Lily Evans at the Quidditch pitch," he mused, eyebrows raised appraisingly. "What's next, the apocalypse?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Funny, Potter."

He sent her a smirk in response, and they began traipsing back up to the castle as a group, casting faint shadows upon the dark grass under the light of the moon. Remus and Isabelle led the way, talking and laughing as Remus apparently attempted to charm a dead branch into a rose with his wand. From what Lily could gather, he was mispronouncing the incantation on purpose, for which Isabelle kept whacking him on the shoulder and chiding him through bouts of giggling. Watching the scene, Lily felt her mouth curve into a smile of its own accord; it was amazing how much Isabelle had broken out of her shell since the beginning of the year.

"So," James fell into step beside her suddenly, leaving Peter to bring up the rear, "what did you think? Be brutally honest; my ego can handle it."

Mildly startled, Lily turned her head. Assuming that he was referring to the practice, she surprised herself by responding with an entirely honest, yet unexpected, answer. "It was… nice," she confessed.

James' eyebrows disappeared under his dark fringe. "Really?" His voice was tinted with an undertone of disbelief, as though he was half expecting her to elaborate with "Kidding! You suck!".

Instead, Lily just gave a rueful smile. "It must be amazing, being able to fly like that. Almost makes me wish I'd learned properly."

"You never learned to fly?" James made no effort to disguise his incredulity.

"No," Lily returned, surprised that he didn't remember. "I had a fairly traumatic first experience, if you recall." Failing to suppress a shudder, she allowed her brain to replay her initial attempt at riding a broomstick, when she had risen several metres into the air only to lose her grip on the handle and plummet back to the ground. She had suffered nothing worse than a skinned knee, her confidence had been forever shattered.

James, seemingly having a similar flashback, grimaced. "Oh, yeah," he muttered. "You can't let something like that stop you, though. I fell off loads back when I was first learning."

"Yeah, and how old were you? Five?"

"Four," he admitted sheepishly. "But seriously, Lily, it's the most amazing feeling in the world when you're up there. It's… indescribable. Like nothing can touch you. Like you're invincible."

That was easy enough for him to say, Lily thought darkly. _He _had been the one showing off and doing loop the loops beside her as she'd plummeted to her possible demise. "Sure," she said, "It's all fun and games until you crack your skull open. No death wishes here, sorry."

James let out a frustrated sigh, and then abruptly, he stopped walking. "That's it," he announced with sudden resolve. "Lily," His voice was deadly serious, "I am teaching you how to fly."

* * *

On the uppermost story of Number Eleven Grimmauld Place in London, a light shone through the glass pane of a window and into the night.

Inside, illuminated by the gaze of an enchanted table lantern, Evangeline Hansen was sprawled across her bed, dressed in a pair of ratty pyjamas and flipping the pages of a thick, dusty book.

Laying there on her stomach, listening to her mother's muffled sobs from down the hallway, she felt as though she had aged a million years. It seemed impossible that just this morning, she'd been sitting in Potions with nothing but schoolwork and fending off Bentley's advances to occupy her mind. It was terrifying, she thought, just how quickly everything could change.

The large tome in front of her was not so much a book as an ancient photo album that had been collecting dust in her father's study for the past few years. Early in the afternoon, she had unearthed it in a strange need to see her elderly neighbour's face one more time. She had been unable to bring herself to open it, however, and it had spent the rest of the day sitting on her bed, an eerie fixation that held the shadow of the past within its yellowing depths.

Finally, after the sun had fallen and Evangeline had retired to her bedroom for the night, she had been unable to ignore its call any longer. With great trepidation, she had cracked the album open, holding her breath. The air had whooshed out of her lungs in a sigh of relief, however, when she'd been greeted by the wide blue eyes and jolly grin of a bouncing baby girl, and she had felt herself gaining confidence as she'd turned the next page.

Five minutes later, she was lost in deep reminiscence as the visual memories filled her head. There she was, at age six, perched on a sofa with her legs dangling over the side and a newborn Ethan held in her arms. Every so often, her mother would rush into the picture anxiously and adjust the baby's head against her arm, dark hair falling over a pretty, heart-shaped face. Another page was turned and she was standing next to her father, both of them wind-worn and beaming, clutching broomsticks and laughing after a game of backyard Quidditch. Various snapshots followed: Evangeline in long braids and overalls racing around the yard with a delighted Ethan on her shoulders, assorted birthdays with unicorn-shaped cakes and streamers, brother and sister greedily tearing the wrapping off of presents on Christmas morning, and…

She let the page she had just turned flutter down, feeling a pang in her chest as her eyes roved the picture in the centre of the faded parchment. Two seven-year-olds, one dark-haired with mischievous grey eyes and the other freckly with long, brown tresses, stood side by side, arms around each others' shoulders as they squinted into the camera with equally dorky gap-toothed smiles. Behind them, people milled about on a pebbly bank, and Evangeline realized with a jolt that she was staring at the willow-strewn edge of Celestial Lake.

With careful fingers, she peeled back the plastic cover and removed the image from the album, setting it gently on her bedside table. And then, in a moment of lucidity, she frowned and set a book on top of it, covering the photograph and wondering what on Earth she was doing. It wasn't as if she was going to frame it or anything—perish the thought.

A sudden, frantic tapping noise pierced the silence and Evangeline's head snapped up instinctively to perceive a large shape moving around outside her window. She leapt off the bed to push the pane open and Pudge barrelled in, promptly collapsing onto the carpet.

"Hey, Buddy," Eva cooed, noting the small package tied to his leg. "That looks heavy."

Pudge let out a hoot of exhaustion from where he lay and lifted his foot wearily, begging her to remove it. She obliged and, after fetching him some biscuits and a fresh bowl of water, she found herself scooping the parcel up off of the ground and pulling off the wrapping eagerly. The paper fell away to reveal a tiny assortment of items. An envelope and a bundle of chocolate frogs were vaguely noted, but they were left to the wayside as Evangeline let out a gasp of delight and picked up the ball of fur that was nestled in between, promptly engulfing it in a tight hug.

"Griggins," she murmured, feeling oddly sentimental. The dog's worn fur comforted her beyond measure, and she was quite content to simply stand there for a moment with him held against her chest.

Without warning, a sea of light poured in through her window and she turned her head, freezing in shock at the scene that lay before her. Next door, Sirius' bedroom had burst into colour, lit by a bright glow that allowed Evangeline to see quite clearly across the gap between their houses. She watched in stunned silence through the frame of his window as he shut the door behind him and slammed a fist against the wall, breathing heavily. Reaching up to run both hands through his hair in aggravation, he suddenly turned his head, and Evangeline's chest constricted as his eyes bored into her. Upon realizing that she was still clutching Griggins in an embarrassing sort of embrace, she crossed her arms, unable to read the expression on Sirius' face as he stared back at her.

"Sweetie?"

Evangeline was released from the prison of his gaze when her mother stuck her head through the doorframe. Despite her red, swollen eyes, Selene Hansen was a beautiful witch, with a curtain of raven-coloured hair and soft eyes that were just beginning to crack with laughter lines. People often commented that, with her more lanky stature, big blue eyes and chestnut-coloured locks, Evangeline was the spitting image of her father. If one looked past the obvious, however, it was clear that she resembled her mother in more ways than anyone realized. In that moment, with both of their faces partially in shadow, they had never looked more alike.

Slightly flushed, Evangeline looked away from the Black House, shooting her mother a look of inquiry. "Yeah?"

"Just wanted to say goodnight." Selene sent her daughter a quivery smile. "Don't stay up too late, hey?"

Wordlessly, Eva padded over to the doorway and wrapped her arms around her mother. "I won't," she promised. "'Night, mum."

"'Night, sweetie," she replied, and then paused to squeeze her daughter's hand. "I'm glad you're home."

Evangeline smiled, and there was complete truth in her words as she said: "Me too."

When her mother departed, Evangeline turned around and, heart pounding in her chest, she felt her eyes dart to the window of their own accord.

But there was nothing there. Sirius' room had dissolved once again into blackness.

* * *

When the morning of the funeral dawned, Evangeline woke to such a brilliant stream of sunlight shining through her window that she felt positive that Mrs. Bright was smiling down upon them from beyond the clouds. The sunshine merely intensified over the course of the morning, and by the time the Hansens were ready to leave the house, it had bloomed into a beautiful summer's day despite the fact that it was nearing the end of autumn.

Dressed in a simple black dress and a dark set of robes that she had borrowed from her mother, Evangeline gave off an appearance of unusual maturity and solemness as they prepared to disapparate, hair half pulled back and secured neatly with a clip, red lips a sharp contrast to the paleness of her skin. Ethan had cleaned up similarly nicely, with his hair combed down into obedience to match the sophistication of his new robes.

There was a series of popping noises as the Hansen family disapparated, and within an instant, they found themselves standing beneath the vine-coated entranceway to a tiny, sun-bathed cemetery. Following wordlessly in her parents' footsteps with Ethan trudging along beside her, Evangeline allowed herself to admire the location. They were walking a worn cobblestone path that twisted and turned, winding into a small thicket of ash trees and cherry blossoms ahead. On either side, mismatched headstones stood cheerfully under the sun, a collection of grey stone, flowers and memories.

Evangeline knew that they had arrived at their destination when they turned a sharp corner and a mass of black robes came into view, their wearers huddled around a white marble casket on the grass. She couldn't help but be slightly taken aback at the sheer number of mourners present; wizards and witches of all ages stood in clusters on the lawn, filling the area with a steady—but demure—thrum of conversation. As they neared the casket, Evangeline noted a framed photograph of the deceased and a plaque inscribed with the words _Ambrosia Bright, forever fighting against darkness, forever in our hearts._ The woman was staring out of the frame with a gentle, knowing smile that stretched her wrinkled skin and lit up her eyes behind her glasses, and Evangeline felt her heart rise into her throat as she stared back, suddenly bitter that she had not had the chance to say goodbye properly.

Forcing her eyes away from Mrs. Bright's likeness, she took a moment to scour the crowd for friendly faces. Next to a gnarled tree, she spotted the Mackinnons comforting a teary-eyed Elphias Doge, who was wringing his hat through his hands. There was Augusta Longbottom, standing stiffly in her extravagant hat, and then…

She had known, of course, that he would be here, but that didn't stop her heart from doing a strange little jump when she caught sight of Sirius, cold and composed in his black robes, standing a few metres away from his parents. She watched as his mother, more sallow skinned than ever, twisted around to say something to him, and as he turned away without a word, scowling.

Evangeline was left with barely an instant to contemplate this exchange, however, when a magically magnified voice floated over the crowd, causing the chatter to dry up immediately.

"Good morning." A stooped wizard stood atop the wooden podium, addressing the mob in a hoarse voice. "We are gathered here today to remember and celebrate the life of Ambrosia Bright." He paused for a moment, and then continued: "I think you will all agree that she was one of the finest witches of our generation, and the circumstances of her loss are, without a doubt, a dark shadow over her memory. Today, however, we will rejoice in the richness of the life she left behind, and we will venerate her in death. I will call upon Mary Heatherfield to begin the proceedings."

He stood down and a short, elderly woman hobbled onto the dais with the aid of a wooden cane before unfolding a piece of parchment with shaking hands. With a raspy intake of breath, she began, very quietly, "Ambrosia Bright was my dearest friend." Here, she stopped and sniffed, before continuing in a stronger voice. "I met Rose on my very first day of Hogwarts, and I think everyone who knew her back then would agree that she was a right phenomenon. When she wasn't petitioning for girls to be allowed on the Quidditch squad, she was practicing her duelling skills and giving the boys a run for their money." A ripple of appreciative laughter resonated through the audience, and Evangeline smiled at the image. "I remember when she first told me that she wanted to become an auror," the woman continued, smiling contritely through her tears. "I told her she'd better get off of her high hippogriff and come back down to reality—I don't think anyone took her ambitions seriously at that point. But then, she graduated and went on to prove us all wrong. Rose was one of the greatest aurors of her time, and even after she retired, she was still a force to be reckoned with. She was a wonderful listener, a calming influence, and a shoulder to lean on, even in the darkest of times. She was the sister I never had." The woman was weeping steadily now, tears sliding down her wizened cheeks as she uttered: "Thank you, Rosie, for making my life a brighter place."

Evangeline found herself with wet cheeks after this heartfelt eulogy. She reached up to wipe them dry using the sleeve of her robes, but was interrupted when a choked sob burst out from beside her. Glancing to her right, she saw her mother leaning into her father's chest, body heaving. It was too much—tears began to fall freely from Evangeline's eyes, and she made no effort to suppress them.

Two more speakers followed, each with equally emotion-stirring speeches to share with the audience. By the time the service came to a close, Evangeline's eyes were red-rimmed and swollen and her throat felt horribly tight. It had been years since she had cried so much, and her body was definitely not used to the unpleasant aftermath.

Almost twenty minutes after the service had ended and the crowd had begun to dissipate, the Hansens found themselves back on Grimmauld Place. This time, however, they standing at the threshold to Mrs. Bright's house, where the wake was being held. The stone dwelling, which had been left in her sister's possession, was packed with people by the time they stepped through the doorway, and Evangeline immediately found herself separated from her family by a mob of newcomers. Unbothered by this, she began a lonely circuit of the sitting room. Her parents had been unusually quiet since they had left the funeral, and even Ethan wasn't being his talkative self. It was a nice reprieve to escape the suffocating silence and stroll through the house at her own pace, listening to the various conversations occurring around her.

The interior of the house was poignantly familiar, and Evangeline's heart was filled with bittersweet feelings as she perused the worn sofa, the tea cup collection inside of the ornate china cabinet, the little mahogany table where she would often sit down with her neighbour for a game of Wizard's Chess. Even the smell, a fusion of chamomile tea and pine, was still hauntingly fresh; the thought of it fading away eventually caused Evangeline's chest to tighten painfully.

In the end, she found herself sliding the back door open and slipping outside, drawn to the backyard where she had spent so much of her childhood as though by some eerie curiosity. It looked the same as ever—a vast expanse of green lawn bordered by quaint gardens and a wooden veranda. An enormous willow tree sprouted from the centre of the yard, its sprawling branches casting shadows over the lawn and creating a little oasis at its heart.

Revelling in the bright sunlight, Evangeline removed her dark robe and set it on the edge of the deck so that she was wearing only the dress that had been underneath. Feeling liberated, she breathed in deeply and then began wandering toward the centre of the yard, drawn to the willow tree's shady little haven. She slowed when she reached her destination, pausing to admire its ancient beauty. Then, absent-mindedly, she reached a hand out and ran it over the fat, knotted trunk as she moved around it in a slow circle.

She stopped abruptly and let out a shriek.

There was someone right there, back pressed up against the tree trunk, dressed in crisp black pants and a partially unbuttoned white shirt, and she had almost crashed into him.

It was Sirius.

Looking utterly shocked, he stared her up and down with wide eyes, blinking as though trying to dispel a mirage. Evangeline took a step backward, equally stunned.

"Black," she said faintly.

Sirius' expression turned stony. "Hansen."

There were a few more seconds of silence, and she was considering turning and walking back the other way, when all of a sudden:

"You have a crying hangover." Sirius' voice was croaky as he nodded toward her face, employing a term that Evangeline had invented in her preteen years to describe the puffy after-effects of crying.

Eyebrows raised, Eva brushed a strand of hair away from her face self-consciously. "I know," was all she could think to say in response. She had no idea what possessed her to ask the next question, but the words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to reconsider. "D'you miss her?"

Extraordinarily, Sirius responded to this out-of-the-blue query without a hint of spite. "Heaps," he admitted, picking up a fallen piece of willow branch from the ground and dragging it through the bark on the trunk. "I knew her better than I knew my own grandmother."

Evangeline nodded, understanding what he meant.

"Remember that time you climbed right to the top of this thing?" Sirius carried on, using the stick to gesture upwards at the tree.

Nodding again, Evangeline remembered the incident. "We were like ten or something," she said, letting her thoughts drift back. "You told me that if I got to the highest branch, you'd give me a galleon."

Sirius' mouth twitched, but he still wasn't looking her in the eye. "And then you got yourself stuck up there and your dad had to wingardium leviosa you back down."

"That happened a lot, didn't it?"

"You always climbed too high. Never thought about the descent."

They stood in silence for a moment, Sirius staring contemplatively at the grass-covered ground and Evangeline with her arms crossed, lost in thought. It was as though the tree was some sort of time capsule, she realized, that united them through their mutual childhood experiences. She found herself reflecting on all the other moments that they had shared in this exact location, and a bitter pang shot through her chest.

"I miss that," she whispered, and Sirius lifted his head to meet her eyes. Scrunching her brow, she frowned. "What… happened to us?"

There was a moment where time seemed to slow, and they stared directly into one another's eyes, remembering.

And then, with a look of deepest repentance, Sirius broke the silence. "Everything always goes to shit. It's just the way life works."

His harsh words were like a slap in the face, and Evangeline felt reality come crashing back down around them. Feeling as though there was no way of responding to this statement, she kept her mouth shut.

A few moments later, however, Sirius surprised her by speaking again. "Listen, I'm sorry," he said, looking at the ground once more.

Evangeline furrowed her brow. "For what?"

"For all the crap I've said to you these past few years." He let out a humourless sort of chuckle, and Evangeline had to repeat his words several times in her head to make sure she'd heard correctly. "There are worse things in life, you know?" Sirius carried on. "I'm tired of fighting all the time. I don't want to be carrying around a stupid grudge for the rest of my life." Pausing, he met her eyes again, and Evangeline felt her breath melt away as the stormy grey colour bored into her. "Do you think we could… I dunno, call a truce?"

For all Evangeline knew, the world might have stopped spinning and exploded into flames. Was she hallucinating? Had Sirius Black really just taken a shot at reconciliation? It seemed too surreal to contemplate, and yet the proof was standing right in front of her, dark-haired and brooding. Filled with a strange numbness, she continued to stare.

And then finally, after what seemed like hours, she dipped her head in a sort of agreement, unable to find the words.

"Truce?" Sirius asked again, holding out his hand with solemnity spread over his handsome face.

Trembling slightly, Evangeline took hold of it and felt a jolt at the contact. "Truce," she uttered softly.

And at that moment, the wind picked up, sending the limp branches of the willow tree into a gentle sway around them as they stood beneath its leaves, hands clasped together tightly for the first time in years.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, confession time.

Lately, I've been having some serious discussions with myself (yes, I'm weird like that) about this story in general, and I'm… torn. It's hard to put into words, but I'll try.

I started writing WITS when I was 15 and relatively new to fanfiction. Joyfully, I went along planning my own version of Lily and James' school years, not fully aware of the fact that my story had already been written by countless other authors on this site.

Now, eleven chapters (is that it? Man, I'm a major slacker in the update department) and almost 3 years later, I can't help but cringe when I read the earlier instalments. Not only that, but I'm frustrated by the complete cliché-ness of the entire story. Yes, I am aware that Lily has two best friends who are involved with Remus and Sirius, and there is way too much emphasis on these relationships, and there is a Halloween party and "Evangeline" is a stupidly extravagant name, etc. And every time I sit down to write the next chapter, I end up typing zero words and closing the document in a fit of irritation.

For a little while, I had all but given up. This evening, however, I found myself reading through a notebook that I've been keeping since the very beginning of the story, and in between laughing at myself for some of the stupid ideas I came up with back then, I had a very important realization:

I don't care about the clichés. I think I'm going to finish this story, for the sole reason that I want to prove to myself that I _can_. So, please forgive my fifteen-year-old self for creating such a horribly unoriginal framework for WITS (though I understand if you don't want to—I'm still working on it myself :P).

Anyway, I owe a MASSIVE thank you to everyone who has been sticking with me throughout my disgustingly slow updates. Not to mention everyone who managed to get through this novel of an Author's Note. :)

Feedback would be hugely appreciated! I'd love to hear your take on the situation. Do you think I should continue with this story, or do you think I should devote my energy to a new project?

-Liz

Ps. If you're interested in reading some of my work that is *gasp* _not _one gigantic cliché, check out _Starstruck, _the L/J story I've been co-authoring with PrincessEarth. You can find it on our joint account Seven Scribbles, or in my favourites.


	12. Flight and Fall

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J. K. R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and... well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Flight and Fall**

The Saturday following Evangeline and Sirius' return to the castle, Lily found herself holed up in the Gryffindor common room in total reclusive study mode, threatening to disappear beneath a sea of open textbooks and scraps of parchment and scribbling furiously onto a scroll that was already hanging over the edge of the table and trailing onto the floor. She paused momentarily, quill suspended in mid-air as she chewed her lip in thought, and then ducked her head again, completely oblivious to the world as she continued to write.

Across the room, a pair of hazel eyes watched her actions with great interest and amusement. James, barely suppressing a mischievous grin, was crouched behind a sofa, bidding his time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When Lily turned and began to rummage through her bag, he saw his opportunity. Tightening his grip around the two broom handles that were held in his left hand, he rose to his feet and padded silently across the otherwise deserted common room. He stood behind his target for a moment, smile widening. Then, he pounced.

"I'm kidnapping you."

The moment the words left his mouth, Lily's entire body twitched in alarm and she let out a shriek. Hand over her heart, she spun around and gaped at James' smiling face. "For the love of Merlin, James," she ground out, voice slightly shaky. "What's your problem?"

James' smile didn't budge. "I'm kidnapping you," he repeated.

Ignoring him, Lily frowned at the parchment in front of her and crossed something out. "Bug off," she told him distractedly. "No time to talk."

The next thing she knew, her quill had been yanked cleanly out of her tightly clenched hand. "Oi!" Eyes blazing, she lifted her head. "Seriously, _what _is your problem? Give it back!"

James moved the quill out of her reach and then tucked it into his pocket. "You've been working all morning."

Lily gnashed her teeth. "Yes, I have. And I'm going to be working all bloody night if you don't _give me back my quill_."

James didn't move, and Lily took in a frustrated breath of air. "You know what? I don't have time for this. Keep the stupid thing. Just leave me alone." She rifled through her bag and extracted a second quill. Unfortunately, right before she was able to dip the tip into her ink pot, a hand shot out and caught her wrist. Next thing she knew, she was yanked right off of her chair.

"Okay seriously_, _sod off_!_" With brutal viciousness, Lily attempted to pry his fingers off of her wrist.

Wincing at both the verbal and physical abuse that he was undergoing, James managed to hold tight. "Stop fighting, Lily," he insisted. "You need a break. Come on."

It was then that Lily noticed the two broomsticks held in his other hand, and felt her spine tingle. "Wait a second…" She froze, eyes trained on the wooden death traps. Although she feared that she already knew the answer to the next question, she voiced it anyway. "What are those for?"

Grateful for a reprieve from the torture, James thrust one of the brooms into her hands. "I," he began, pulling her gently toward the portrait hole, "am going to teach you how to fly."

"Oh, no." Her worst fear confirmed, Lily pulled back, eyes wide in horror. "No, no, no, no. I don't fly."

Exasperatedly, James ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, you do," he corrected. "Or, well, you will. I told you I'd teach you, and I don't go back on my word. Come on."

But Lily was adamant. "I have to finish my essay," she insisted. "Professor Kettleburn…"

"… would probably be exceedingly grateful if you stopped writing now before you hit the ten foot mark." James cut her off, regarding the lengthy scroll of parchment with a grin. "You know, spare his eyesight, and all that."

Lily growled, and then sighed. "You're not going to let me get out of this, are you?"

"Not a chance."

The stalemate hung in the air for a few moments, and then finally, Lily let out a grunt of submission. "Fine," she snapped. "But _only_ because I'm sick of writing about bundimun infestations."

"Wait, seriously?" James looked mildly thrown.

"Yes," Lily clarified in a _well duh _sort of voice. "They're fungi with eyes. Not exactly the most riveting subject matter."

Laughing, James shook his head. "No, I meant, you'll actually come with me?"

"Well… yeah," Lily said slowly, and then narrowed her eyes to suspicious slits. "Why—what are you going to do?"

James shook his head again, hastily. "Nah, I just… didn't think it'd be that easy. I had a whole plan worked ou—" Seeing Lily's face, he clamped his mouth shut. "Never mind," he said. "Let's go!"

* * *

And so that was how Lily found herself, ten minutes later, standing in a little grassy alcove behind the school with James Potter, a couple of Comet 260s and a stomach full of butterflies.

"It's easy," James was saying, showing her how to adjust her grip on the handle. "Just put your hands a little closer together." He covered her fingers with his, repositioning them, and Lily felt that familiar warm pull in her abdomen.

As he removed his hands, something strange happened: Lily suddenly became very self-conscious and found herself wishing that she had made an effort with her hair, or at least put on some mascara. She vaguely remembered throwing her hair into a messy bun that morning and chucking on an old pair of jeans and a sweater. _Stupid, _she chided herself, and then wondered why the hell it mattered anyway. Cringing, she gave a small cough and glanced up at James. "Now what?" she asked in a would-be-casual tone, hoping that her cheeks weren't giving her away.

"Now," said James, mounting his own broom like it was second nature. "You fly."

Lily turned a mocking stare on him. "Thank you, O Great Teacher," she deadpanned. "That's so enlightening."

James stuck his tongue out in response. "I'm getting there," he assured her, and then rose a few centimetres off the ground, toes skimming the grass as he moved toward her. He descended slowly, examining her face with care. "We'll start with staying close to the ground—that way you won't have any chance of falling."

Lily shivered. "Alright. So… how do I do this, exactly?"

"You just think about where you want to go. As long as you're in command and holding on tight, the broom'll trust you."

"_It _will trust _me_? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"It works both ways," he informed her. "Just relax, Lily; you'll be fine."

Full of doubt, she tightened her grip on the handle. Then, she willed her thoughts to come together, focusing on the feeling of lifting off the ground. The effect was immediate; beneath her, the broom twitched to life and rose jerkily into the air. Lily, utterly unprepared, shrieked and lost her focus, causing the broomstick to lose altitude. She stumbled back to the ground on clumsy feet.

James reached out a hand to steady her. "That was good," he said mildly. "Just make sure you don't panic."

Breathing heavily through her nostrils, Lily dropped the broomstick and planted her feet firmly on the ground. "Good?" she repeated incredulously. "That was bloody terrifying! You know what? I give up. Flying just isn't for me, alright?"

James looked into the air for a moment and expelled a sigh. "Okay, that's it. Plan B." He climbed onto his broom once more, looking strangely determined. "Lily, get on."

"Come again?" She squinted at him.

"My broom; climb on the back."

"Are you insane?"

James held his ground, sending her a beseeching glance. "Please," he said. "I just want you to see it how I see it."

Crossing her arms, Lily let out a deep sigh, but she had a feeling she was going to end up caving in. Something in his voice was crumbling her defences (or maybe it was the fact that he was staring straight at her with puppy-dog eyes). She sighed again. "Alright," she said, and her shoulders drooped in reluctant accord. "But only for a second—and you _can't_ go too high."

James looked ecstatic. "Trust me, it's going to be brilliant," he enthused, and scooted forward a little, motioning for her to sit.

Lily obeyed, although she might as well have been on her way to the gallows for the look of utter dread on her face. She swung her leg over the side awkwardly and then froze. Her nostrils had been hit by a waft of cinnamon, and it had caught her off-guard, to say the least. Sweet and warm, not overly strong, the aroma reminded her strangely of… Christmastime. She breathed in again and had a sudden mental image of hot chocolate and carols and decorating a tree by candlelight. It seemed to be some kind of cologne, but Lily couldn't put her finger on the brand; whatever it was… she liked it.

James turned his head and the smell intensified, leaving Lily mildly light-headed. "You ready?"

Barely managing a coherent head shake, Lily folded her arms again and tried to appear cross. "Of course not. If I die, it'd better be on your conscience."

James opened his mouth in mock outrage. "I would never let that happen," he assured her, and then grinned wickedly, "... be far too hard to hide the evidence, given the circumstances."

"Prat." Lily whacked him on the shoulder from behind. Suddenly, she was very glad that they were alone; her actions probably constituted flirting on some level, and she knew that were they present, Evangeline and Isabelle would most definitely be exchanging sly glances behind her back.

"Ahem." James broke her train of thought with a light cough. "You, er, might want to hold on."

"What? Oh." Lily glanced around for a suitable hand rest for a few seconds before realizing that he meant his waist. Cheeks practically ablaze, she reached out tentatively and loosely encircled him with her arms. The Christmas smell was back; for some strange reason, she found it ridiculously alluring.

"Ready?" James asked again, turning to face her one more time.

Lily's heart was beating a mile a minute, but she didn't know if it was because of the imminent flight or simply her proximity to James and his cologne. She swallowed and tried to speak. Nothing came out.

Apparently, James had taken her non-response as a sign of accord, because not a moment later, the broom began to rise.

The minute the soles of her feet left the ground, Lily panicked. "You won't go too fast, right?" she queried, her voice high and fearful. "Right? You'll—JAAAMES!" They suddenly shot into the air with superhuman speed, and Lily's arms tightened around James in a reflex reaction. Eyes closed and head ducked into his shoulder, she held on for dear life, screaming.

Finally, their ascent slowed and James lifted a hand to his ear with a wince. "Good lord, woman, I think you broke my eardrums."

Lily opened her eyes and glared at his back, retorting: "I think you just broke the sound barrier, you git!" Slowly, she dared to glance down and at once, her vision became fuzzy. The castle had been reduced to a little stone house, the Black Lake a puddle of inky water. Trees blurred together and students on the lawn were mere specks, barely visible to the naked eye. Lily bit her lip, highly aware of her dangling feet and the fact that they were miles and miles above the ground. Her arms snaked tighter around James' body.

"You alright?" James checked, his tone showing genuine concern. He turned his head slightly so that his face was within mere inches of Lily's. "Sorry," he offered. "I should've gone slower—it's just kind of a reflex."

Throat gone dry, Lily managed a vague "S'okay," and then stole another glimpse over the edge. Her entire body was abuzz with a mixture of thrill and terror, her heart pounding and her eyes wide.

The feeling only intensified from there. The five minutes that followed were the most alive that Lily had felt in years. James began by the forest, swooping over the treetops in long arcs and sending flocks of birds into flurries of flight around them, their wings silhouetted against the autumn sky. Then, evergreens became stone towers and they were skirting the edges of the castle, rising until they were level with the astronomy tower and then circling the roof. Lily clung to James like a lifeline, comforted by his warmth and his scent, and before she knew it, they were soaring over the Black Lake—first high in the air, and then so close to the surface that Lily could see her shining face reflected in the murky depths. Gaining a smidgeon of confidence, she unhooked one arm from around James' torso and dipped her fingers into the water, watching with delight the trail of ripples and bubbles that she was leaving behind on the surface. Despite everything, she let out a breath of laughter.

And then, all too soon, they were back in the alcove and floating slowly toward the grassy ground. Hair windswept, heart racing and face stretched into a wide grin, Lily expelled another laugh the moment her feet hit the earth. James held her hand and helped her off the broom, grinning in return. "So?" he prompted.

"That was… that was incredible," Lily gasped. "Like a roller coaster, only so much better! It mean it was just so… so…" She stopped, and laughed. "You've got me lost for words."

James grinned, but there was a deeper emotion being suppressed behind his tight lips. "I guess it just goes to show," he said, his voice low, "even if you think you hate something, you never really know…" He paused, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of windblown hair behind Lily's ear. "…until you give it a chance."

Lily's breath caught in her throat, for she knew full well that he wasn't talking about flying anymore. She lifted her head and met his gaze, looking up from under her eyelashes. His hand, which was still in her hair, began to trail down her cheek, leaving a burning path along her the side of her face. She swallowed, caught up in the intensity of his hazel eyes.

And then in a motion that was sudden, and yet somehow seemed to occur in slow motion, James dropped his hand to the back of her neck, leaned in, and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers.

For a split second, Lily stood stock still, eyes wide in surprise, but as James gently started to move his mouth across hers, her eyelids fluttered closed and her body began to respond in turn. Heart pounding electrically, she focused on the warmth of his lips and found herself reaching up to entangle her hands through his hair. She had always wondered what the dishevelled crop of strands would feel like, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was, in fact, soft and smooth. With an air of impatience, James used his other arm to press against the small of her back and pull her closer. Lily, happy to oblige, leaned into his chest, breathing in the smell of Christmas…

And then she froze.

Head fuzzy as he continued to kiss her, Lily faltered. James, sensing that something was wrong, pulled away from her lips, his cheeks tinged pink. There was a moment of silence, and then Lily retracted her hands as though they had been doused in boiling water. She gulped. "I… we… can't," she stammered, taking a few steps back. A sudden gust of cool wind shot through the gap between their bodies.

James looked hurt, and his voice was gravelly as he asked: "Why not?"

Reaching her hands to her head in frustration, Lily replied: "I just… I don't know."

A flash of anger crossed James' face, and suddenly his voice was much stronger. "No, I mean it Lily," he said harshly. "Why not? _Why_ are you so intent on not admitting your feelings?"

Lily let out a little gasp, and her voice turned defensive and cool. "I'm not." The wind picked up, freeing the loose piece of hair that James had so carefully slipped behind her ear and causing it to whip across her face. "I don't… I don't like you in that way, James."

His responding gaze was cynical, mocking. "Really? Because I didn't exactly see you protesting just then."

Lily remained silent, and James shook his head and laughed humourlessly into the air. When he spoke, his tone was bland and emotionless. "I was about ready to give up on you this year, you know," he told her, "and then you started acting so differently toward me. I thought… maybe…" He shook his head and trailed off.

Lily bit her lip, not knowing how to respond, or even if she _should _respond. "I'm sorry," she finally croaked.

"Don't be sorry," he shot back, and the frustration in his tone was potent, "just… fucking stop leading me on."

Lily reeled as though she had been slapped. Never, in all their years of arguments, had James employed such harsh words. Unexpectedly, tears sprang to her eyes, and she blinked furiously to make them go away.

Seeing this, James' anger seemed to dissipate ever so slightly. "Sorry," he said. "It's just… I've been trying Lily." His voice, now, was barely a whisper. "I really have, but it's like you have this… this image of me in your head, and no matter what I do, you'll never let go of it. I'll never be good enough."

Again, Lily remained silent, unable to find the words to make things right.

James shook his head. "Forget it," he said curtly. His irises, usually a warm hazel tone, almost looked grey. He raised his shoulders. "I'll leave you alone from now on—it's what you've always wanted, right?"

And then he bent to collect the broomsticks from the lawn, turned his back, and stalked away.

Lily stood numbly for a few minutes, a stone statue on the green lawn. She did not feel angry, or sad, or even relieved; as the wind whipped through the clearing, all she felt was cold. It was as though her mind had chosen to shut down. Eventually, teeth chattering from the rising bite in the air, she stumbled dazedly through the castle doors and dragged her listless body up several flights of stairs. The password for the common room slipped from her lips in a comatose sort of monotone, and then there were some more stairs, and finally she was turning the handle of the seventh year girls' dormitory.

The moment the door shut behind her, she broke down.

A loud, choked cry burst from her lips, and within a few seconds, her whole body was shuddering with sobs.

"_Lily_?" Evangeline, who had been sitting on her bed, jumped to her feet and rushed over in horror. "What's wrong?"

Crying uncontrollably, Lily took in several rapid breaths of air, unable to respond.

"Oh, Lil." Eva wrapped her arms around her friend, her forehead creased. "Here." She dragged her toward the bed and forced her to sit, conjuring up a box of tissues and offering it with outstretched hands.

"Thanks," Lily sniffed. She blew her nose a few times and then used the sleeve of her robes to swipe the tears from her cheeks.

Evangeline took a seat next to her, crossing her legs and scrunching her brow again. Once Lily's tears began to subside, she asked gently: "What happened?"

Lily shook her head, blowing her nose again. "James." The word slipped from her mouth in a hoarse whisper.

"James?" Evangeline repeated, frowning in confusion. "As in Potter? What do y—What on _earth _did he do?"

"He…" Lily raised a hand to her lips. "He kissed me."

"WHAT?"

Lily's gaze hardened. "He kissed me."

She found herself recounting the entire experience, beginning with her capture in the common room and ending with James' angry departure. Evangeline, for the most part, remained silent, listening to the story with a slight frown on her face. Partway through, a wrinkle appeared on her forehead, and it continued to deepen as the tale went on.

When Lily finished her story and Eva finally spoke, it was not at all what Lily expected.

"Oh, Lily," she groaned, sounding mildly frustrated, "why did you push him away?"

"Excuse me?" Lily lifted her head to examine her friend incredulously through red-rimmed eyes.

Evangeline sighed, pushing her long hair behind her ears. "It's just, I thought you liked him."

Lily groaned, smashing her head against her palm. "I do! But I don't, but I kind of…" She put her head in her hands and moaned, "I don't know!"

"Think of it from his perspective. " Evangeline's tone was gently rebuking, and Lily found herself slightly irked with it. "He's liked you for years, and he's probably confused out of his mind. Can you really blame him?"

"Why are you taking _his _side?" Lily burst out, her voice full of angry disbelief.

Evangeline's mouth fell closed, registering the sting in her words. "I'm not," she shot back. " I've just been thinking a lot clearer since… lately." She paused for a moment, her eyes cloudy. "He likes you, you like him—I don't understand why it has to be so difficult. Some of us aren't so lucky." The last sentence was a bitter afterthought, spoken much more quietly than the rest of her spiel.

Lily's eyes narrowed, and a dark comprehension dawned on her face. "Oh, I get it," she said, scorn dripping from every word. "This is about Black."

"What? No!" Evangeline's voice rose in pitch. Her eyes were livid. "God, don't bring him into this."

Lily scoffed. "Oh please," she said. "You've been acting strangely ever since you got back, and it obviously has something to do with him." She fixed her with a cynical brow-raise, daring her to deny it.

Evangeline stood up, putting more space between them, and crossed her arms. "Fine!" she snapped, her cheeks turning a hot, angry red. "Maybe it does. Maybe I just don't want you to make the same mistake I did, alright?"

Lily rose too, moving toward the other side so that the bed separated them, and crossed her arms so that her stance was identical to Evangeline's. "Thanks, but I _really _don't need a lecture right now," she snapped. "I need a friend."

"Well, I'm sorry for trying to look out for you." Evangeline threw back, and there was slight wetness glistening in her ocean blue eyes. She raised her shoulders in a sort of defeat. "I thought that was what friends did."

Lily, who by now was an emotional wreck, found herself yelling in return. "I _know _I made a complete bloody mess of things, okay? I _know _that! I don't need you to make me feel worse than I already do!"

Evangeline flinched as though physically hurt. "If that's how you feel, maybe you should have told Isabelle instead."

"Maybe I should have!" Lily shouted. "_She _might actually have understood!"

"Fine," Evangeline said. She sniffed, blinked, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "Since clearly I'm not wanted here…"

A loud slam reverberated throughout the room and Lily sank down onto the bed. Closing her eyes, she rolled over and whimpered bitterly into her pillow.

* * *

**A/N: **I'll spare you all my pathetic excuses for not updating. Suffice it to say that school is evil. This chapter was actually the result of a seriously bad case of procrastination (aka I was supposed to be working on a HUGE history paper that was due the next day. Um… oops?)

Anyway, I know this was like… ridikkulusly short compared to my usual chapters. I did it for pacing reasons. According to my Master Plan (that makes me sound like some sort of evil genius… Muahahahaha! :D), this was all that was supposed to happen in Chapter 12. And I must obey the Master Plan.

So, some general notes: Ooh, the drama. Sorry for the lack of Isabelle/Remus/Sirius/Wormbutt ('cause I know you're all just _dying _to read about him…) scenes in this chapter. I just thought the emphasis was needed elsewhere right now.

(And for those of you who read Starstruck, Chapter 5 is in the works, I promise!)

EDIT: I totally forgot to thank you all for your reassurances on my little confession last chapter. :) Thank you, thank you, thank you all for the wonderful comments that made me so happy! I'm glad you guys enjoy reading what I write. Special thanks to A lily with prongs for a long review full of praise that boosted my ego like crazy! Oh, and the other thing that I wanted to comment on was the whole Sirius living on 12 Grimmauld Place and Eva on 14... I guess maybe this was just the places where I've lived, but I'm used to the odd numbers all being on one side of the street and the even numbers on the other? Although, come to think of it, maybe JK did it differently in Harry Potter - I'll have to consult my HP books!


	13. The End of the Tunnel

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J. K. R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and... well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: The End of the Tunnel**

Lily was quite thankful that the term 'rock bottom' was merely a metaphorical expression, for she was quite certain that were it a literal place, she would have been dead upon impact at the rate which she had slammed into it several days ago.

The aftermath of Saturday's events still lingered over her head, a cloud of gloom and isolation that followed her everywhere. Evangeline had been treating her to the cold shoulder ever since their argument and Lily wasn't exactly making any sort of effort to fix things between them. She knew that sometimes she and Eva were too similar for their own good; both were headstrong and stubborn and had great difficulty swallowing their pride, which made apologies and admittances of wrongdoing fairly difficult for the pair of them. Isabelle, to her credit, had been doing her best to divide her time between them, often acting as a reluctant messenger to bridge the gap when necessary. After several days of this charade, however, it was clear that her patience was beginning to wear thin.

And James... Lily scrunched up her face, trying to quash the memory of his forlorn expression as it surfaced in her mind. She hadn`t so much as spoken two words to him since their blowout, and quite honestly, she didn`t plan on doing so anytime soon. Her feelings were still in complete turmoil, and now a profound sense of embarrassment had been added to the mix, forcing her to endure a combination of guilt, confusion and humiliation whenever he cropped up in her thoughts. To add to the depressing sensation, James now refused to acknowledge her presence in class and averted his eyes whenever they passed one another in the corridors. He had even taken to vacating the common room whenever she entered through the portrait hole, and though she supposed she couldn`t blame him, Lily still felt a stab in her chest with every rejection.

By the time classes finished on Tuesday, Lily wanted nothing more than to change into a pair of fluffy pyjamas and curl up in bed, away from all the drama. Wallowing in self-pity, she ignored the faceless people passing her by on the way up to the Gryffindor tower and focused solely on the warm, inviting thought of her four-poster. She was so lost in this notion, in fact, that she didn't even realize that the dormitory was occupied until she had already taken several steps into the room. It was only when she noticed the sudden silence that she realized that anyone had been talking in the first place. Furtively, like a doe caught in headlights, she turned her head.

Isabelle and Evangeline were sitting on the floor, leaning up against their respective beds and each clutching a handful of exploding snap cards. Upon seeing Lily, Eva`s eyes narrowed and she lowered them standoffishly, shuffling her cards with determined, jerky movements.

_Bugger._

Lily turned and made to exit the dorm, but a sudden gust of wind whooshed past, and the next thing she knew, Isabelle had slammed the door shut, pressing her back up against it and effectively blocking Lily`s escape route. The blonde's eyes darted over to Evangeline—who was still seated on the floor, shuffling her cards and resolutely avoiding eye contact with everyone—and then narrowed ominously.

"This is ridiculous!" she burst out, golden ringlets falling into her irritated face. "I've had it up to _here _with you two and your stupid argument!"

Despite everything, Lily couldn't help but exchange a gaping expression of surprise with Evangeline at this ridiculously out of character explosion. Being shouted at by Isabelle, she decided, was rather like being viciously attacked by a fluffy bunny rabbit.

"Isa," she croaked in astonishment. "_You_ don't have to be upset."

"Don't I?" Isabelle looked crazed. She flung her arms into the air. "You two are driving me round the bend! Would it kill you to apologize to each other so we can get on with our lives?"

Again, Lily and Evangeline stared at one another, both looking slightly fearful.

"Did you... Are you _imperiused _or something?" Lily finally ventured.

Evangeline had dropped her cards. "Nah," she put in faintly. "I reckon she's just gone mental." Hesitantly, she risked a slight grin in Lily's direction.

Lily felt her own lips tug upward a little in response.

"Oh that's lovely," Isabelle grumbled, crossing her arms. "Start bonding at my expense, why don't you?"

Lily turned her head. "Sorry Isa, only joking," she offered lamely, and then bit down on her lip. There was silence, and she toyed with an idea for a moment before finally making up her mind. The next phrase emerged from her mouth in a grudgingly stilted manner. "And... I'm... I'm sorry, Eva," she finally managed to get out.

Several seconds passed. Evangeline's eyebrows rose abruptly, dark angles against her pale forehead, and some sort of invisible wall seemed to shatter. "No," she said, and sighed. "_I'm _sorry. I shouldn't have stuck up for Potter—I dunno what I was thinking, really."

Lily shook her head stubbornly. "I shouldn't have dragged Black into it," she insisted. "It was completely uncalled for."

"But I should have been more supportive—"

"I had no reason to be so angry—"

"Merlin," Isabelle broke in dully, slapping a hand to her forehead, "trust you two to argue over an apology, of all things."

Everyone laughed at this, and as their chuckles died down, Lily felt suddenly as though a great weight had been lifted off of her chest.

"Blimey, all this drama," Evangeline commented, her expression disdainful. "I swear, sometimes I feel like we're all just characters in some big, melodramatic story."

"Oh dear, not another one of your theories." Isabelle shook her head. "I thought we'd put a stop to them after the whole unicorn conspiracy thing."

Evangeline looked affronted. "Think about it!" she insisted. "Anything that perfect has to be hiding something. It's just not natura—"

"Hey," Lily cut in, eyeing the pile of cards scattered around the floor. All thoughts of curling up in bed had suddenly lost their appeal. "Anyone up for another round?"

Immediately, Evangeline cut her tirade short and exchanged a look with Isabelle. "Really, Lily?" She spoke in a weary tone. "I can't even count how many times I've lost an eyebrow playing against you. You're like some kind of Exploding Snap Mastermind. Takes all the amusement out of playing." She shook her head, and Isabelle nodded in agreement.

"Psh," Lily scoffed. "Hardly. I just have good reflexes."

Isabelle and Evangeline fixed her with similarly cynical expressions.

Despite this, however, Eva seemed to relent. "Fine, I suppose one round couldn't hurt," she said, bending forward and scooping the cards up into a big pile. "Thank Merlin for hair regrowing spells, is all I can say." With rapid ease, she dealt everyone a hand and then picked up her own, wrinkling freckly nose in a grim manner. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"Of course not," Lily responded airily.

Not twenty seconds into the game, a small explosion rocked the room, causing all three girls to yelp and choke on the smouldering haze. As the smoke finally began to dissipate, a ruffled, eyebrow-less Evangeline was revealed, her face smudged and charred. Lily and Isabelle's coughs morphed into wild gales of laughter at the sight.

Scowling, Evangeline lifted her wand to the bald spots. "Oh, shut it, both of you."

* * *

"Oy, James! Bung us a chocolate frog, would you?" Sirius called out from his four-poster, where he was lounging on his back, shoving Every Flavoured Beans into his mouth by the handful.

James glanced up from _Quidditch Legends: A Definitive Guide _and shot his friend a derisive look. "That's disgusting," he commented, nodding toward Sirius' twisted method of consumption.

"Taste better this way," Sirius said with a shrug, and then tilted his head back to drop another twenty or so beans into his mouth all at once. "Flavours canfshel eashofer ou'." He swallowed audibly and held out his hand. "Come on, mate, chocolate."

"You'll spoil your dinner," James shot back offhandedly, eyes still skimming the pages of his book.

"Oh dear, we wouldn't want that now, would we _Mummy_?" Sirius replied, and snorted. After the words left his mouth, his expression hardened into something resembling a frown, and he rolled off his bed to grab a frog from Remus' bedside table. There was a brief crinkling sound as he ripped off a wrapper and downed the chocolate in one bite.

Meanwhile, James seemed to have stopped reading. He was staring melancholically at the same spot on the page before him, eyes sombre and jaw clenched.

Sirius, noting this, sighed heavily. "Evans'll come around, mate," he said, reading James' thoughts in that way that only he could. "She'd have to be bloody daft not to."

Tensing, James looked up. "Who said anything about her?"

"No one; it's that look on your face," Sirius replied. He coughed lightly. "That, and you're reading. You always read too much when she gets you in a strop."

James bristled, and snapped his book shut. "Listen, can we not talk about this right now?"

Sirius held up his hands. "Your call, mate. Only trying to help." He cleared his throat again, and then added: "Lay off the books, though, alright? One Moony's bad enough."

"I take offense to that, you know." The door to the dorm had swung open, revealing Remus, whose face bore a look of mild annoyance. A dejected looking Peter lumbered in after him and promptly collapsed onto his bed.

"Where've you two been?" Sirius queried as Remus dropped his bag onto the floor.

"Kitchens," Remus responded. "Pete wanted a knickerbocker glory."

Sirius laughed, turning to regard the pudgy Marauder. "Thought you were trying to get in shape, mate. I don't reckon ice cream's exactly the way to go."

Remus looked sharply at Sirius and shook his head in a _don't-go-there-right-now _kind ofmanner.

"Shut it, Sirius." Peter's voice was muffled; he was lying down on his stomach and talking into his pillow. "Just because you can eat like a pig and not gain an ounce..."

"What happened, Pete?" It was James who spoke this time.

There was a moment of silence, and then: "Lisa," muttered Peter, who still had his face firmly planted into his pillow.

"Pizza?" Sirius sounded confused.

"No, you idiot." James probably would have clapped him on the back of the head had he been within arm's distance. "He means Lisa Pennington, right?" He turned to Peter for his support and received a glum nod.

"_Who_?" Sirius still sounded baffled.

"That Hufflepuff girl," Remus tossed in. "Sixth year. He took her to Slughorn's Halloween party—remember?"

Finally, Sirius looked enlightened. "Ah!" he exclaimed, and then frowned. "What about her?"

"I asked her to Hogsmeade," Peter explained miserably. "She said no."

There were a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, and then finally, Sirius responded: "Ah well, her loss. Don't get yourself too worked up over it, eh?"

Peter, who was lying entirely still, gave no response.

"Oi, did somebody eat my chocolate?" Remus exclaimed, and the others, even Peter, turned their heads to see him rummaging around on his bedside table.

Sirius shrugged. "I was hungry."

"Tosser," Remus shot back, looking irritated. Giving up on his search, he grabbed his scarf and slung it around his neck.

"Where're you off to in such a hurry?" James inquired.

Remus, who was now fastening his cloak, paused momentarily. "I'm meeting Isabelle."

"_Meeting, _eh?" Sirius hitched an eyebrow suggestively. "And, ah, what exactly does that... entail?"

"Bugger off," Remus shot back disgustedly. "She's not like that."

"All butterflies and fluffy kittens and innocence, is she?"

Remus did not even grace this comment with an answer; instead, he glared. "See you lot at dinner," he said pointedly, and then he was out the door.

"What's his problem?" Sirius asked injuredly.

"You," James deadpanned. He flipped a page dully, apparently having gone back to reading. His forehead was still creased, his eyes distracted.

Sirius scoffed in response but made no further comments, and a moment later, a sudden cacophony of nails on glass filled the room, and everyone turned to see a ball of black feathers flapping about outside the window.

Sirius frowned. "Is that...?" Suddenly sobered, he paced over to the glass and wrenched it open, allowing a dignified-looking owl to flutter inside and come to rest on the windowsill.

Sirius' expression hardened. Apprehensively, he reached out and untied the letter—which was sealed with the Black family crest—and began to read. About two lines in, he felt his stomach lurch. Several times, his eyes skimmed over the letter's contents, growing more and more narrow with every rereading.

"Sirius, what is it?" James sounded genuinely worried.

Clenching his jaw, Sirius shook his head. And then, with one swift movement, he crumpled the parchment violently in his fist.

* * *

"You're late."

Isabelle's voice carried over on the frosty wind from where she stood at the edge of the lake. Her hands were stuffed inside her sleeves to save them from the biting November air and her ears were bright pink where they were exposed beneath her messy updo.

"Sorry," Remus panted, his breath unfurling in spirals. "Pete forced me on a detour to the kitchens. He's been having a rough day... I couldn't really say no." Drawing closer, he suddenly noted her bare neck and chattering teeth. "Merlin Isa, why aren't you wearing a scarf? Or a hat? Or mittens? Come here." Without pausing, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her into a warm embrace.

In between bouts of shivering, Isabelle pressed herself against his body. "_Some_ of us," she spoke into his chest with mock haughtiness, "made an effort to show up on time, even if it meant sacrificing the warm things that were in our dormitory." She wrapped her arms tightly around Remus' back and breathed deeply. "Besides, my boyfriend is always extra toasty."

Remus laughed. "Good thing, too, considering you're always like a block of ice."

Isabelle untucked her head to look up at him with narrowed eyes. Rather than responding, Remus found himself staring at the smoothness of her neck where it was exposed beneath her upswept curls. Hungrily, he leaned down and covered her lips with his in a lingering kiss. Isabelle responded with enthusiasm, and it was a good minute before either of them pulled away.

Finally, Remus retracted his neck, inhaled and squinted around the frosty schoolgrounds. "I'm reckoning we should probably start meeting inside, now that it's almost winter."

Isabelle made a face that exuded sarcasm. "And go where exactly—the library?"

"I dunno, I hear it's a pretty good spot for a hot date," Remus returned very seriously. "You know, snogging by lantern light, being shouted at by Madam Pince..."

Giggling, Isabelle shook her head. "I'm pretty sure that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say." Suddenly, she gasped. "Oh, speaking of, I had the most crazy realization earlier."

"Oh?" Remus replied, raising his eyebrows.

Isabelle began bouncing up and down a little in excitement (or perhaps it was an attempt to warm up). "Okay, this is going to sound mental, but remember the day we left for camp? How Trelawney fell down the stairs and started spouting all that rubbish about a winged beast or something?"

"Yeah..." Remus' jaw dropped. "Blimey, I see where you're going with this," he said, his voice faint. "You don't reckon that was Pete's butterfly?"

Isabelle nodded eagerly. "And 'the earth will take two prisoners' or something like that." She made air quotes around the words. "It's a bit eerie, don't you think?"

"Merlin's pants." Remus looked dumbstruck. He shook his head. "Reckon I might actually start paying attention in Divination from now on."

Isabelle nodded, and shivered.

"Okay, this is ridiculous. Here, take my scarf." Remus began unwinding the scarlet and gold fabric from his neck.

"No, really Remus, don't—"

But he was already slinging it around her neck. "And my mittens, here." He made to remove the woollen gloves, but Isabelle reached out and grabbed his hand.

"No! What about you?" She crossed her arms. "I'm not taking them."

Remus sighed in defeat; he never had been a fan of unnecessary conflict. "Okay, fine," he relented. "But here, put your hands in my pockets."

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "Alright..." She obliged, and Remus felt her hands settle into the woolly pockets of his cloak. "But... why?"

"So that I can do this." Grinning, he lifted his hands up and rested them over her ears, covering the exposed flesh with his mittens. "There, now we're both warm. Aren't I clever?"

"The cleverest," Isabelle replied with a laugh. Then, she paused and considered. "Only... we can't really walk anywhere like this."

Remus shrugged. "Then we'll just have to stay here."

For a moment they were both silent, and in their close proximity, his hands resting on either side of her face, they met one another's eyes.

Isabelle's mouth twitched upward a little.

"What?" Remus queried.

"Nothing. Just... you have freckles," she replied, her voice soft.

"I know." Remus grimaced. "James and Sirius won't let me hear the end of it."

Isabelle smiled, causing dimples to dent her cheeks. "Well, I think they're cute."

And all of a sudden, Remus felt something tighten painfully around his chest. It took him a moment to figure out what was causing the unpleasant sensation, and then he realized. Sirius' stab from earlier might have been meant in jest, but it was undeniably true: Isabelle _was _innocent. Everything about her screamed it; her slight shoulders, her halo of blonde hair, her dimples...

He felt his hands slacken a little from their guard post over her ears. His gaze shifted from her rosy cheeks to the cold, shadowy school grounds behind her and suddenly his face was not that of a teenage boy, but of a man who was aged beyond his years.

"Remus? You alright?" Isabelle didn't miss his sudden shift in spirits.

He forced his eyes to focus. "Fine."

Looking slightly unsure, Isabelle retracted her hands from his pockets. "I... I guess we should head inside." She caught his eye. "Library?"

Remus dropped his hands from her ears, his face carefully blank, and let out a deep breath. "Yeah. Inside. Library. Sounds good."

* * *

That night at dinner, the sky in the Great Hall reflected the grey, windy haze that was outside the castle. Inside, however, the atmosphere was warm and cheery and the entire room was filled with the pleasant aroma of roast beef and Yorkshire puddings.

"I am _starved_," Evangeline proclaimed loudly as she plonked herself down at the table, dropping her bag to the ground in her typical careless manner and immediately beginning to shovel some of everything onto her plate.

"Oi, save some for the rest of us," Isabelle said, her tone exasperated.

Eva, who was already shoving a forkful of roast beef into her mouth, shrugged in a completely non-apologetic manner. "Shorry, bu', ya shzooze ya loofshe," she replied, her words barely coherent. After taking a moment to swallow loudly, her eyes lit up. "Ooh, gravy!"

Lily, who had to dodge Evangeline's outstretched arms as she swiped for the gravy boat, made a face. "You'd think she hadn't eaten in days."

"I haven't!" Evangeline insisted. "Not since lunch anyway, and that was years ago."

"I feel like your perception of time might be a little skewed," Lily replied dryly, digging into her mashed potatoes. She was in the process of taking a rather large bite when a shadow suddenly fell across the wooden table.

"Er, sorry, would you mind if we borrowed your gravy? Our end of the table doesn't seem to have any."

Lily glanced up and promptly choked on her potatoes when she saw James Potter standing in front of her. She suffered an embarrassingly drawn-out coughing fit and finally resorted to taking a long swig of pumpkin juice, mostly just using the goblet as a shield to hide her face from view.

Luckily, James seemed to be oblivious to the fact that she even existed; he was avoiding eye contact at all costs, his expression steely.

With a wary glance in Lily's direction, Evangeline handed over the gravy. "All yours, Potter."

"Cheers." James acknowledged her with a slight nod. Then, still determinedly avoiding Lily's gaze, he turned and began making his way back to the other end of the Gryffindor table. Lily, who was still holding her goblet up to her face dazedly, couldn't seem to take her eyes off of his retreating back. Something in her chest just felt... strange. Out of place, almost.

James had nearly made it back to his seat when all of a sudden, he turned his head ever so slightly and caught Lily's gaze. Taken aback, Lily immediately averted her eyes and set her goblet down with a loud _thunk_. James, who seemed equally shocked to see her staring back, quickly looked away.

For some strange reason, not two seconds later, Lily was hit with an overwhelming urge to look in his direction again. Despite her internal protests against such an action, she found her head turning of its own accord, her eyes searching for that messy black hair. To her utmost surprise, when she found him, James was once again staring right back at her, this time with a questioning look in his eyes. Embarrassedly, she looked away; she could feel her cheeks colouring.

"Where do you reckon Black is?"

Evangeline's low tone was a welcome distraction, and Lily snapped her head up immediately, giving her friend her full attention.

"What?"

"Black; he's not with them." Eva's eyes were focused on the Marauders as she spoke.

Lily, who had been so focused on James that she had not even noticed Sirius' absence, glanced to her right again. Sure enough, only three-quarters of the Marauders were seated on the benches.

"Detention?" Isabelle offered. "Wouldn't exactly be the first time."

"Yeah..." Evangeline seemed to come to her senses suddenly. "Sorry, I don't even know why I said that." She frowned and stabbed a potato with her fork. "Just a weird feeling."

After this, dinner turned into a mostly silent affair. In fact, the entire Great Hall seemed to be under a hush, perhaps due to the fact that much of the raucous laughter that was generally provided by the Marauders was conspicuously absent from the Gryffindor table that night. James, Remus and Peter spent about fifteen minutes picking at their food in silence before rising and leaving the hall without a word.

The girls weren't too far behind them.

Lily let out a small sigh as they exited the Great Hall, wincing slightly at the way her food didn't seem to be sitting well at all in her stomach. "I feel weird," she announced.

Isabelle turned her head. "Sick?"

"No." She bit her lip. "Just... weird." It was a sense of something unresolved, she realized—an unanswered question, or an unfinished conversation. And somewhere, deep down, she knew that it was all linked to a messy-haired boy in a tangled web of confusion and mixed emotions.

However, she didn't care to admit this to anyone right now—least of all herself—and so she kept a puzzled frown on her face and continued to walk steadily forward.

Until something stopped her in her tracks.

She blinked.

Remus Lupin was standing covertly in a little alcove to her right, and he seemed to be signalling for her to come over. Completely taken aback, Lily glanced behind her as though to check that he was motioning to her and not someone else. When she confirmed that she was the only one in his line of vision, she made a face of utter confusion and opened her mouth to speak. However, this seemed to agitate Remus, who began making wild slashing movements against his throat.

"Er... Lily? Are you coming?"

Evangeline and Isabelle had both stopped walking and were staring back at her peculiarly.

"What? Oh..." Lily was clearly floundering. Her eyes kept darting over to Remus' hiding place and the back and forth action was causing her to appear quite insane. "I think I'm going to... go get medicine."

Evangeline looked confused. "I thought you weren't feeling sick?"

"I didn't realize, but now I am. Yeah. Stomach ache." It was at times like these that Lily wished she were a better liar.

Indeed, her friends, who had known her for six and a half years, both had the sense to look suspicious.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Isabelle finally asked, making to backtrack.

"No!" Lily held up a hand as though to prevent her from approaching. "That's okay. I'm okay, really. I'll catch you up."

"You sure?"

Resolutely, Lily nodded. "Go on, I'll be fine."

It was hardly a convincing act, but Isabelle and Evangeline seemed to get the message.

Since she was supposedly on her way to the infirmary, Lily was forced to walk in the other direction down the corridor for a few seconds until she was sure that her friends were out of sight.

Finally, their footsteps disappeared and Lily all but flung herself into the alcove with Remus. "Are you insane?" she burst out.

Remus looked strangely agitated. "Maybe, I dunno. I kind of feel like it right now." He was pacing back and forth, and Lily found herself slightly taken aback; she had never seen this side of him before.

There was a long pause, during which Lily began to wonder what he had bothered to call her over for if her was just going to ignore her. Finally, the pacing stopped. He turned his head sharply. "You know."

Whatever Lily had been expecting, it had not been that. "I—what?"

Remus let out a deep breath. "You know... what I am," he repeated. No question. "It's okay," he hastened to add when he saw her discomfort. "I saw it in your eyes at that Quidditch practice last week. James told me what happened. S'pose it doesn't take a genius to figure out—disappearing once a month and all that."

Lily swallowed. There was no point in denying it now, clearly. "The day before Halloween," she admitted quietly. "I just sort of... put two and two together."

Remus dipped his head. "So you know now." The words were experimental on his tongue; he seemed to be weighing up the situation.

"I'm sorry," Lily felt obligated to say.

"Don't be," he said. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who should be apologizing." His voice had a bitter edge to it. "For deceiving you. And everyone else."

Lily's eyebrows shot up. "That's ridiculous Remus. You haven't been deceiving anyone. You just have a... condition."

"_Condition_." Remus let out a dry laugh. "That's how my parents always refer to it. '_Remus' condition'. _Anything to avoid the fact that their son's a bloody monster."

There was a moment of silence, and then: "You're not. A monster, that is." Lily's voice was quiet. She glanced up into his eyes and glimpsed a hint of torment in their depths. "You're still the same bloke I've known for six years, Remus," she said. "If anything, I respect you even more now."

Silence followed, and then finally, Remus spoke. "Thanks," he said, his voice gruff. "You're far too nice for your own good, Lily."

"I'm really not."

"You are. Anyway, I actually wanted to talk to you about," He let out a breath, "Isabelle."

Lily knew immediately what he was getting at. "You haven't told her yet, have you?"

"No, but it's... I want to. I really do." Remus looked pained. "I can't stand the fact that I'm hiding it from her—it's driving me mad." He met Lily's eyes. "... D'you think I should?"

"I... I'm not sure I can make that decision for you," Lily replied carefully. "But I suppose it'll only get more difficult the longer you wait, right?"

Remus seemed to be mulling over her words. "I wish I weren't such a coward," he muttered. "No, you know what? You're right." He let out a heavy sigh. "She deserves to know."

"I'm sure she'll understand."

"Thanks Lily," he replied, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "And sorry for you know... luring you into a dark alcove and all that."

Lily laughed. "Not a problem."

As they parted, however, Lily was struck by a strange need to blurt something out. She closed her eyes and, hesitantly: "Wait. Remus?"

He turned.

"Is... is James really mad at me?" she asked in a very small voice.

He looked mildly taken aback. "Not mad." He frowned. "He's... upset. Frustrated, I guess."

"Oh. Well that's... I see."

"You should talk to him," Remus advised. "He's not been himself."

Lily blanched slightly. "I don't know if that's such a good idea," she said. "He doesn't want to talk to me. I don't blame him."

Remus stuck his hands in his pockets. "He's confused is all. The truth is, I think he sort of thought you were starting to fancy him. Got his hopes up too much."

At this, Lily opened her mouth to reply, but somehow faltered. Her cheeks turned pink.

Immediately, Remus' jaw dropped. "Lily, you don't... _do _you fancy him?"

Looking up, she managed to croak: "I think I might." And then she laughed, but there was no humour in her tone at all. "Excellent time to come to that conclusion, right?"

"Lily..."

"It doesn't matter now. I've made such a mess of things."

Remus' eyes were wide. "Blimey Lily, of course it matters! It's not too late by a long shot."

"It is," Lily insisted. "This time it is."

Remus was shaking his head—partly out of disbelief and partly in order to refute the previous statement. "Listen," he said, "it's your choice in the end, but I can tell you right now he'd have you in a heartbeat. You're _Lily _for Merlin's sake. The bloke's only been in love with you for about six years."

Lily, whose eyes were very wide, did not respond.

Remus sighed. "Just... talk to him, alright?"

"I'll... try. Thanks, Remus."

"No worries. Good luck."

Lily smiled grimly. "Yeah, you too."

* * *

"Sodding _hell_."

It was eight o'clock in the evening when this profanity emerged from the mouth of Evangeline Hansen. The girl was standing in the middle of her dormitory with a piece of parchment in one hand, a pair of lumpy woollen socks in the other and a look of utmost horror on her face. At her feet, Pudge, having just consumed an entire handful of owl treats, was chewing loudly on Lily's bedspread.

Shaking her head in disbelief, she skimmed the parchment again.

_Evangeline,_

_Before you get too attached, the socks aren't for you. I saw the pattern in this month's Witch Weekly and thought Sirius might appreciate them. I imagine he's a bit down right now—Walburga came round yesterday and told me the news. Disowned! I just can't believe it. He's always been such a nice young man. There's just something not right going on there, if you ask me._

_Anyway, thank you for your last letter, sweetheart. (Tell your brother he should follow your lead and write us every now and again, would you?). Things are the same as ever here. Your father has been very busy at work this past week—something about new Quidditch regulations, as far as I can tell (you know I've never been any good with all that Ministry jargon). I've decided that I'm going to carry on Mrs. Bright's annual Yuletide get-together this year at our house. She would have wanted it to live on, I think. It's still a while off, but you'd be surprised at how much planning goes into that sort of thing—I've been knee-deep in catering suggestions all week!_

_I hope all is going well with you, too. Send Sirius our love and please make sure you give him the socks. (I'll make you a pair too if you desperately want some—they're very warm. Your father's quite fond of his.) Looking forward to seeing you at Christmastime!_

_Love, Mummy_

"Unbelievable," Evangeline muttered. She glanced down at the balled up socks again, and with great trepidation began to unroll them so that she could examine them in all their hideousness.

It was worse than she expected. The garments were knit from coarse, grey wool that formed a series of uneven, lumpy stitches. One was several sizes larger than the other, and on the ankles, there was a sloppily crafted red design that might have been a quaffle or a wonky sort of fire slug; it was difficult to say. In short, they were probably the ugliest pair of socks that Evangeline had ever seen.

_Send Sirius our love and please make sure you give him the socks._

Evangeline almost clapped a hand to her face. Her mother had a habit of conveniently forgetting that she and Black had had a falling out several years ago. Selene Hansen had always been fond of Sirius, and Eva knew that she was constantly hoping that perhaps they had managed to reconcile their differences now that they were older and supposedly more mature. Some would call her an optimist; Evangeline preferred the term 'completely bonkers'.

Whatever the case, it was very irritating.

But... _disowned_. It was only now that the initial shock was wearing off that the full magnitude of the word began to sink in. She thought back to the night of the funeral and seeing Sirius so agitated through the frame of his bedroom window. She thought of the snippy interactions between him and his mother, the dark looks, the hostility... Was this what things were like at home for him now, she wondered?

A sudden, sharp pain in her left pinky toe caused her to let out a startled yelp and yank her foot backward. Pudge had apparently abandoned the bedspread and moved on to devouring human flesh. Having succeeded in getting her attention, he glanced up through wide eyes and let out a low hoot.

Despite the dull pain in her foot, Evangeline rolled her eyes. "Alright, fine," she told him, fishing a bag of owl treats out of the top drawer of her dresser, "but Mum thinks you're on a diet, so this stays between you and me." Eyeing the bird sternly, she dropped a handful of pellets onto the ground. Pudge let out another hoot and began to devour them noisily, and Evangeline found herself staring at the socks again.

Merlin, they were ugly_._

But... what should she do with them? Her immediate reflex, of course, was to chuck them into the common room fire and pretend as though the entire situation had never happened. But then she thought of her mother, who could barely stitch buttons onto robes, and the hours of work that must have gone into producing those irregular stitches and sloppy patterns.

Guilt was a horrible emotion.

Her thoughts shifted to Sirius. They were in a truce, right? Did truces mean that they could give each other socks? She tried to envision how the scene might play out in her head.

"_Here you go Sirius, old chap. My mother thought these would match your eyes."_

"_I say, that was very kind of her. They are rather spiffing. Thank you."_

"_You're quite welcome. Cheerio!"_

(It was a sad statement about Evangeline's imagination that that of all the scenarios she cooked up, this was probably the most realistic. And why did the people in her head always seem to speak with posh accents?)

She was distracted from these thoughts, however, when the bathroom door opened with a click and Isabelle emerged, hair dangling in damp ringlets. "Shower's free," she announced. Then, she seemed to catch sight of the socks, and paused. "What on Earth are those?"

With a face that spelled out doom and gloom, Evangeline looked down at the knitted abominations. "You mean you can see them too?" she asked morosely. "Guess that rules out the dream theory."

"Come again?"

"They're socks," Evangeline elaborated, her tone bland. "Mother Dearest has asked me to deliver them to Black."

Isabelle looked bewildered. "Sirius? But... why?"

Evangeline opened her mouth, a biting remark on her tongue, and then suddenly stopped herself. Whatever was going on between her and Sirius, she realized, it was not her place to spread news of his disownment. In fact, even _she _probably was not supposed to know about it at this stage. And so, with an air of nonchalance, she replied: "Who knows? You know mum's been completely gaga for him since we were about two." She looked at the socks again, and moaned. "Isa, what am I going to do?" Her tone was full of desperation. "I can't give him these!"

"Er... chuck them out the window and act as though you never got them?"

"Already considered," Evangeline admitted with a sigh. "I just... I'd feel bad. And mum's bound to bring it up next time she sees him."

Isabelle considered. "Well, why don't you just write a note and leave them outside the boys' dorm? That way you don't actually have to speak to him."

"But it's... Wait, that's actually quite brilliant!" Immediately, Evangeline launched herself at her desk, ripped a piece of parchment from a scroll and began to pen a hasty letter.

_To Sirius_

But what should she write? She looked at the two words, hastily scrawled across the parchment.

Meh, that'd do.

Quick as a flash, she armed herself with the note and the socks, figuring she had better do this before she lost the motivation. "Back soon," she told Isabelle. "Make sure Pudge doesn't eat anything important while I'm gone."

Barely giving Isabelle a chance to respond, she yanked the door shut behind her, taking the stairs two at a time and almost barrelling into a fourth year on her descent. The common room was blissfully empty; there were a couple of boys playing wizard's chess in the corner and a small cluster of giggling girls sitting in front of the fire. They all seemed sufficiently distracted, and so Evangeline figured it was safe to casually slip up the staircase to the boys' dorms. Upon reaching the upper landing, she perused the row of wooden doors until she came upon the one which read _Seventh Years_. It was quite beat up, she noted, with faint charring around the edges and a series of scratches marring the wooden surface.

Remembering her purpose, she rolled the socks up into a ball and stuffed the note into the top so that the words were visible. She was crouched down, in the process of placing the bundle in front of the door, when disaster struck.

Without warning, the door flew backwards and a pair of denim-clad legs nearly tripped over her ducked figure. Frightened, Evangeline let out a slight squeak and reflexively put her hands over her head to avoid being trampled.

"Argh!"

"What the—?"

Evangeline removed her arms from in front of her face and glanced up.

Of course. It always had to be him.

"_Hansen?_" Sirius Black was staring down at her incredulously. Blinking repeatedly, he pulled the door shut behind him as though in a daze.

Realizing how dumb it was for her to be kneeling there on the floor, Evangeline scrambled to her feet, still clutching the balled-up socks. "Oh, hi," she said stupidly, using her free hand to push her hair behind her ears.

There was an awkward pause, and Evangeline noticed that Sirius' eyes were ever so slightly red around the edges. She cleared her throat. "I was just... well, it's..." She winced and held out the socks. "Here."

Sirius looked taken aback for a moment before hesitantly removing the bundle from her outstretched hands.

"They're from Mum," Evangeline clarified, watching as Sirius unrolled them. "I'm really sorry," she added lamely as he began to examine the fire slug/quaffle/whatever the hell it was. "She's been trying out knitting and, well, you know how she is. She thought they might cheer you up or something."

Upon hearing these words, Sirius clenched his jaw and looked up from the socks. At this proximity, Eva confirmed that his eyes were indeed red and a little swollen. "She told you, didn't she?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

For a moment, Evangeline contemplated playing dumb. However, something inside her immediately threw this idea to the wayside in favour of the truth. "...Yeah, she did," she admitted.

Sirius shook his head. "I don't even know why I'm so bothered about it." He expelled a breath. "I haven't even been living at home . Moved out last summer to stay with James. I guess it's just a bit of a shock—I mean, you know you're a disappointment when your own mother wishes you weren't her son, but whatever." He looked away, eyes squinted in resentment.

_You're not a disappointment,_ Evangeline wanted to say. "So... what are you going to do then? Keep living with James?" she asked instead.

Sirius considered, biting his lip a little in a habit he'd had since he was a kid. "I dunno. I've got a fair bit of gold from Uncle Alphard. Might look at getting a flat."

Evangeline nodded. There was silence.

"Anyway, tell your mom thanks for me, yeah?" Sirius gestured toward the socks. "They're really..." He screwed up his face, "Well, they're..."

Evangeline grimaced. "Completely hideous, I know."

Despite everything, Sirius let out a bark of laughter. He stretched the wool in an attempt to better see the red pattern. "Are those... lobsters?"

"I was leaning more towards fire slugs," Eva told him dully, "but going on mum's knitting skills, they might be something like, I dunno... chimpanzees."

Sirius chuckled, and then cleared his throat as they both stood looking at their feet. There was so much awkwardness in the air that it was almost laughable. But it was a good kind of awkwardness, Evangeline realized—the kind that was more new and stimulating than just plain cringe-worthy.

"Anyway, I was just going to grab some food," Sirius informed her, rolling the socks back up into a sloppy ball as he spoke. "Reckon I should probably put these away first though."

"Seriously, feel free to incinerate them."

"Nah, you never know when you might need a pair of... fire slug sock things." He glanced up, and Evangeline immediately sucked in a breath as his eyes met hers. She opened her mouth to speak, but found her mind idiotically blank.

Sirius seemed to be at a loss for words too. "Right, well I'll—I'll see you later," he finally managed to get out.

"Yeah, see you." Evangeline looked at the ground, feeling her thoughts begin to resurface. "And Sirius?"

Hand on the doorknob, he turned his head. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about your family and everything." It came out sounding much more awkward than she had planned it, but really, didn't everything these days?

From where he stood, Sirius dipped his head, shooting her one last glance as his fist clenched around the handle. "Thanks."

* * *

It was late, and in the silence of the Heads Room, Lily was pacing. Her shoes clicked against the floor as she walked the length of the sitting room and back again, eyes flicking to the grandfather clock that was leaning against the wall every few seconds in an anxious rhythm.

Inside, she was a bundle of nerves. Because she and James had organized a meeting last week, and waiting for him to arrive was killing her and she didn't even know if he _would _end up coming, because after all, he was avoiding her, wasn't he?

But then, at exactly nine o'clock, the door creaked open and James stepped into the room. Lily stopped pacing. Her body went rigid. For a moment, they stared straight at one another, and Lily saw the darkness in James' hazel eyes. His jaw was clenched with poorly disguised emotion and his black shirt, which seemed to cling to all the right angles of his chest, echoed the shadowy atmosphere that had followed him into the room.

"Hi." Lily spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

He offered a cold nod. "Hi." And with that he moved past her in the direction of the couch, his hostile movements clearly trying to pass as something casual.

"Wait." Lily spoke a little louder this time, but her voice was shaky. She watched as he slowed, keeping his back to her. "I have something to say to you."

James offered no sign that her words had met his ears, other than keeping his body very still. But maybe it would be easier this way, Lily thought. Her eyes moved from the arch of his back to the scuffed wooden floor.

"Okay, so, well, here it goes." She took a step toward him, keeping her eyes downcast. "I—I know you probably hate me, and I don't blame you. But there's something... something you should know."

_Just say it, Lily._

She squeezed her eyes closed. "I... I like you James. I really like you."

The words seemed to swell through the open air, filling the room around them until their silent echo became almost deafening. James turned around, his jaw going slack mid-swivel. This action was immediately followed by a poor effort to disguise his surprise, but it was too late. Lily had seen the hopeful excitement in his eyes, and it acted as a glimmer of anticipation that ignited her confidence. Her voice grew stronger as she continued:

"I guess I've been fighting against it for so long because I was just so used to how things have always been between us." She took another step toward him, and his body seemed to reflexively shift so that it was angled toward her fully. Lily exhaled, examining the planes of his face—the rough, manly slope of a jaw that had not too long ago been smooth and boyish, the eyes that now seemed old beyond their years. Her mouth twitched. "But you've changed a lot—so much—and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to accept that, but I hope you'll forgive me because... because..."

Without another word, she reached out, placing a hand against his jaw and rising up on her toes to press her lips against his. James let out a tiny noise at the contact, and at once his defences seemed to break; there was barely a second of hesitation before his hands were resting on her hips, warm and heavy, and he was leaning down to more easily facilitate kissing her back. Slowly, his hands slid up, following the curve of her back, and Lily felt something clench in her stomach at the sensation. The kiss grew stronger, James' mouth hot against her own, his hands splayed and rough through the fabric of her shirt. It somehow felt more raw and real than anything Lily had ever experienced. His warm smell was everywhere, his shadow of stubble coarse beneath her fingers, and Lily wondered if she would be able to find the willpower to pull away. In the end, however, she managed to find her focus, placing one last, drawn out kiss on his lips before drawing back.

James' cheeks were flushed. "Aw crap, Lily," he breathed, "I'm trying really hard to be mad at you here."

Lily, whose eyes were sill focused on the wet line that was James' mouth, let out a shaky breath of laughter. "I'm sorry," she told him again.

James pulled her towards him again, leaning down so that their mouths were almost touching. "Don't be," he whispered against her lips. "I forgive you."

* * *

**A/N: **Aww gigantic cheeseball! So, as usual, I'm a horrible updater, I am not worthy, etc. I'm sorry guys. :( This chapter was not fun to write. I felt like nothing was happening and there was too much emotional stuff, and I'm not very in-practice with my writing. I had planned to upload on the weekend, but then I went to Glee Live and saw Darren Criss/Chris Colfer/a gajillion other amazing people in person and ended up in a bubble of fangirl-ish braindeadness ( {– exhibit of my vocabulary post-show) and lost my motivation... Surely you can understand? :P

Okay, I actually have been accumulating a lot of stuff that I want to talk about, so I made a list. It's basically an FAQ-type-thing where I talk about a lot of the comments/criticisms that I've been getting in relation to this story as well as some random stuff that probably no one cares about. Feel free to skip and head straight to the review button... you know you want to! ;)

**1. The Trelawney Issue**: This one has been pointed out in reviews so many times now that I feel the need to address it. I kind of laugh, actually, because the Trelawney-falling-down-the-stairs thing was something that I believe was concocted by my sister and I after ingesting too much sugar one night a couple years ago. Don't worry guys, I've always known that Sibyll Trelawney was not at Hogwarts in the James and Lily days. I guess I sort of imagined that this Trelawney (Althea) might be her sister/mother/aunt (who happens to have a freakily similar personality and appearance). Okay, I just wanted an excuse to put a Trelawney in my story. Can you blame me?

**2. Teachers on the Train: **Unlike the Trelawney thing, this one can be attributed to the fact that I was a silly fifteen-year-old when I wrote it. I don't really remember what was going through my brain, but I see now that it's totally laughable to have Dumbledore and McGonagall riding the Hogwarts Express with the students. Basically, the first seven or eight chapters of this story are now complete embarrassments for me, so take them with a grain of salt.

**3. Starstruck: **I know we suck, guys, but Sam has one week of school left. One week! And then we'll be free to write write write.

**4. WITS Quiz: **I made a quiz. If you're super bored and have absolutely nothing better to do, check it out and find out which WITS character you're most like. After creating it (in an epic fit of boredom) I excitedly tried it out only to discover that I was most like... James. Hah, probably my obsession with Quidditch showing through there. Anyway, there are eight possible results – it's kind of fun to try and get all of them. :P Link is in my profile.

And I feel I should point out that this is NOT the last chapter of WITS. I'd like to think there's a bit more to my story than just Lily and James getting together (hahahahaha I'm probably deluding myself here). But since many of you have asked about the actual length, WITS is going to be around 23 chapters if all goes as planned.

Okay, considering I've used up almost an entire page on this author's note, I think I should stop now. If you read all that, I commend you! Thanks for all the reviews—you guys are really what keeps me motivated, and I appreciate it a ton.

-Liz


	14. Frostbite

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J. K. R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and... well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Frostbite**

When the first snowfall of the year hit Hogwarts, it hit _hard._

One Saturday morning, the students awoke to a bedazzling blanket of white that stretched over the vast expanse of the school grounds, dusting the Forbidden Forest in a powdery cover and turning Hagrid's hut into a frosted gingerbread house under the cloudy sky.

Of course, in the name of tradition, there were certain actions that demanded to be taken immediately under such circumstances.

"SNOWBALL FIGHT!" Sirius Black hollered excitedly. He had just come skidding down the stairs and into the common room, clad in only a dark sweater, jeans and stockinged feet. Behind him, James, Remus and Peter (all more suitably dressed) were clutching a variety of articles of clothing.

"Cloak, mate," James called, tossing the bundle of fabric down to his friend. Remus and Peter followed suit, delivering a pair of boots and some mittens.

"C'mon! Everyone outside!" Sirius ordered, fighting to maintain his balance as he shoved the boots onto his feet.

"You heard him, you lot," James announced. "Snow battle by the Black Lake. Every able-bodied Gryffindor is being drafted—Head Boy's orders."

"But we haven't even had breakfast yet," a first year boy piped up.

"Who cares?" Ethan Hansen responded, grinning hugely. "I'll get my cloak!" He leaped out of his chair and ran full-throttle up the wooden staircase.

Sirius grinned. "Knew I always liked that kid."

"What the crap is going on out here?" Skye Linley had appeared at the top of the girls' staircase in a fluffy dressing gown and was blinking down at them, groggily pushing her hair behind her ears.

"Epic snow battle! Gather your troops!" Peter responded.

"Did someone say snow battle?" Evangeline, bright-eyed and full of energy, bounded up behind Skye.

"Alright, listen up," James called out in an attempt to add some order to the growing chaos. "Everyone find as many people as possible to join in and meet by the lake in ten minutes."

Evangeline offered a military-style salute. "Aye aye Captain," she replied, grabbing Skye's arm and dragging her back toward the dormitories.

"Excellent." Sirius turned around and pointed valiantly toward the portrait hole. "Come on, troops—onwards! To the Black Lake!"

* * *

It was a winter wonderland outside.

Evangeline laughed like a delighted child as she led the way out into the bright white haze, long hair tumbling out from under her knitted hat. Behind her was a small slew of students, including Lily, Isabelle and Skye, along with Anna Taylor, Alice Perry, and a bemused Frank Longbottom, whom they had stumbled upon in the Great Hall and rather forcefully collected.

The Marauders were standing beneath a barren tree by the lake when they arrived, surrounded by what appeared to be a small army; Gryffindor students of all ages chattered excitedly behind them, cheeks ruddy from the cold. Lily thought she even saw a few Hufflepuffs amongst their ranks.

"Ahoy maties!" Sirius called when he caught sight of the newcomers, waving them over.

Anna raised an eyebrow, scepticism all over her face. "We're pirates now?"

"You bet your ass we are," Sirius responded in a manner that suggested he was barely paying attention to what he was saying.

"Er, you lot?" Skye spoke up, sounding dubious. "I hate to be a buzzkill, but I don't know how well this is going to work with such fresh snow." To illustrate her point, she scooped up a handful and tried to pat it into a ball, frowning as it crumbled away into a powdery shower of ice crystals between her gloves.

Sirius, however, merely smirked and cocked his head. "Moony? Would you care to do the honours?"

Remus stepped forward and raised a mitten-clad hand to his mouth, clearing his throat. In his other hand, his wand was poised. "_Nividurus!_"

A barely perceptible wave of silver shot out in a circle around him, travelling along the ground for quite a ways before fading from sight.

"Most useful spell Flitwick's ever taught us, I reckon," Sirius commented, eyeing the ground affectionately. He grabbed some snow and packed it between his hands, grinning as it formed a perfect sphere. "Right, first things first," he announced, weighing the ball in an outstretched hand and mumbling to himself: "Decent texture, mildly icy." He removed a glove, stuck his index finger into his mouth and then held it out in front of him, squinting his eyes thoughtfully. "Hmm, slight South-Westerly wind..."

"What the hell is he doing?" Anna deadpanned.

"...depth is about fifteen centime—" _Smack_. A snowball slapped him ruthlessly in the back of the head, exploding into thousands of crystals. Behind him, James cracked his knuckles and grinned evilly.

"Ahck!" Sirius exclaimed, shooting bolt upright as snow tumbled down the back of his cloak. He shook his head like a dog, flinging snowdrops from the wet strands. Then, he turned around to face his best mate and there was a scarily brief instant where his face morphed from one of shock into one of complete murderous intent. "Prepare to die," he said with eerie solemnity, and before anyone could so much as blink, he had already grabbed a wad of snow and chucked it with alarming force in James' direction.

Unfortunately, several months of dodging bludgers in Quidditch training had sharpened James' reflexes to near inhuman levels, and he jumped out of the way just in time, allowing the projectile to hit Remus square in the chest instead.

Sputtering briefly, the sandy-haired Marauder began brushing the ice crystals off of his coat in that incredibly calm manner that only he ever seemed to be able to pull off. "So that's how we're playing, is it?" he queried, looking darkly at Sirius. Slowly and deliberately, he bent down and began to fashion a snowball even more enormous than the one he'd just been hit with; it was shaping up to be quite monstrous.

Gulping, Sirius eyed the growing ball of ice. "Er, right," he said, backing away slowly. "Every man for himself!" And with that, he set off through the snow at a sprint, kicking up powdery white clouds behind him.

A series of cries and footfalls shook the ground as the crowd dispersed in a flurry of upturned snow and all hell broke loose.

Remus shot off after Sirius like a bolt of lightning while Peter grabbed a handful of snow and chucked it with alarmingly good aim in Evangeline's direction. Laughing and cringing away as it hit her ribs, Eva responded in kind, managing to get him in the side of the head, and it was war. Lily watched with raised eyebrows as Frank went after little Alice Perry, who looked equally shocked as she attempted to dodge his pursuit. Not too far away, Isabelle, Skye and Anna were being set upon by a rabid flock of first years, against whom they were vastly outnumbered. Lily was about to go over and help them out when she felt someone grab her hand and looked over to see James' smiling face.

"Want to team up?" he asked.

Lily's breath hitched a little. He looked exceptionally cute in the snow, with his cheeks pinkened slightly and his long eyelashes dusted with snowflakes beneath his glasses. She smiled and tightened her grip on his hand, pressing their mittens together. "Let's get Sirius."

"Good plan," James replied, pulling her through the snow at a run.

A few seconds later, they ducked down behind a snow drift and peered over it to watch their target. Sirius was hiding behind a tree trunk, apparently having managed to throw Remus off of his tracks somehow.

"You take the right, I'll take the left," James whispered, and his warm breath tickled Lily's ear. She nodded determinedly.

"On the count of three," she added. "One..."

The corner of James' mouth pulled upward into a smile. "Two..."

"THREE!" they both shouted together, leaping up and executing a flawless ambush.

Sirius, who had been caught completely off guard, was hit from both directions, and he let out a strangled yelp as the snowballs collided with his arm and his stomach. He looked around wildly until he caught sight of his attackers, at which point his grey eyes narrowed. "You two are going _down,_" he growled, swooping forward and loading up his gloves with snow. In a motion so quick it was almost a blur, he formed a snowball and threw it at Lily.

There was a loud, over-dramatic _"Noo!"_ and suddenly James was throwing himself in front of her, almost in slow motion. The snowball connected with his chest and he fell to the ground, landing spread-eagled on his back. Eyes closed, he let out a feeble groan.

Lily giggled. "You sound like a demented house elf."

"Lily, I just sacrificed my _life_ for you," James replied. "The least I could get is a thank you."

"Your death would be a lot more convincing if you weren't making a snow angel," said Lily, watching as he moved his arms and legs back and forth, sweeping the snow off of the grass around him.

James opened his eyes. "Bugger, I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

Instead of replying, Lily flopped onto the ground and laid back, letting the frozen water soak into her cloak and hair as she made her own angel in the snow. She lay there for a moment, silhouetted by her saintly counterpart, hair spilling blood-red onto the surrounding whiteness. Vaguely, she noticed James shift beside her.

"You look so beautiful right now," he murmured, staring down at her from above. Then, he was lowering his face until his lips brushed against hers, colder than usual, but still soft. Lily felt her chest rise with an intake of breath, and she brought a mitten up to the back of his head. Eyes closed, she leaned further into the kiss, revelling in the familiar heady sensation...

"ARGH!" A thousand needles seemed to pierce Lily's cheek as a snowball slammed into her face. It got James too, grazing his jaw painfully. In a reflex response, they broke away from one another to see a familiar dark-haired boy standing above them.

"That was way easier than it should have been," Sirius said, looking dismayed. "Not really the satisfaction I was hoping for."

Face rapidly turning pink from the sting of the ice and her embarrassment, Lily put a mitten to her forehead. "Go away, Sirius," she groaned.

"Oh, I will," he replied, an unsettling expression on his face. It was then that Lily realized his hands were hidden behind his back. "There's just one more little thing I need to do..." And with that, he threw two enormous handfuls of snow over the pair of them, watching gleefully as they were showered in icy dust. "Right, see you," he said, and then took off at a run.

As James calmly removed his glasses to swipe the snow off of them, Lily shook her hair out, looking positively lethal. "Sirius Black, you complete_ prat_!" she shouted at his retreating back.

James quirked an eyebrow. "Want to get him again?"

"You bet."

* * *

About twenty minutes later, the battle had begun to increase notably in scale. Students of all ages and houses had started joining in, and the castle grounds were beginning to look completely ravaged from the constant upheaval of snow. What had started off as a free-for-all had almost imperceptibly morphed into a conflict between the four houses as warriors banded together, united by the loyalty that seemed to run through their veins.

The Slytherins, who were never known for playing fair, had begun throwing jinxes instead of snowballs at some point, and there were several students running around with horns growing out of their heads or skin that had turned a disturbingly electric shade of blue. These afflictions did not deter them from their endeavours, however—if anything, they seemed to give them renewed vigour in their pursuits. The school grounds were a madhouse of cloaked figures, snowballs and colourful streaks of magic.

Somewhere on the western side of the grounds, Evangeline flung herself behind a gigantic snowdrift, narrowly escaping a nasty hex that she suspected had come from Braxton Crabbe, judging by its wide aim and dim, wispy quality. The brutish Slytherin had been following her for several minutes now, clearly intent on destroying her. It was more annoying than anything; Crabbe was one of those people who was very hard to deter once he set his tiny mind to something.

For a moment, Evangeline stayed there, crouched beneath the snowdrift, and made an effort to collect her breath. Her hair was matted with snow, her cheeks were pink, and her breath was escaping in cloudy puffs around her. If the heavy, snow-crunching footsteps overhead were anything to go on, Crabbe was nearby.

She was in the middle of planning her escape when something unexpected happened. There was a sudden commotion that sounded like running through snow, a few shouts, and then Sirius Black was catapulting himself into her hiding place, executing something that resembled a dive crossed with a barrel roll. Their shoulders slammed together painfully.

"Ow!"

"Oof, sorry."

In the background, there was a faint sound of something heavy thudding to the ground. For a moment, they stared at one another, Eva rubbing her shoulder and Sirius shuffling back on his knees. Then, Sirius laughed.

Evangeline wiped some snow off of her hair. "What?"

"Nothing, just—I swear, _every time _I see you lately, we're crashing into one another."

"You're crashing into _me,_" Evangeline corrected. She squinted at the frosty school grounds behind her and then looked sideways at him. "I have to admit though, that was a wicked impressive barrel roll."

"Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" Sirius pulled his gloves up higher on his wrists, smirking. "I was trying to get rid of Goyle. Fat ass has been following me around for ages."

Eva's mouth fell open dully. "No way, Crabbe's practically been stalking me. Reckon it's some sort of idiotic battle strategy?"

"I doubt they're capable of that level of thought; Goyle asked Slughorn what sleeping potions were for yesterday. Probably operating on someone's orders, I'd say."

"Yeah, you're probably—Oh _god_." Evangeline, who was peering over the edge of the snowdrift, raised her eyebrows. Then, she burst into laughter.

"What is it?" Sirius scrambled to see for himself.

Two dark heaps were slumped over in the snow, about five metres apart. Upon first glance, they might have been moderately-sized boulders, but a closer examination showed that they were, in fact, human beings.

Crabbe and Goyle.

"Bloody hell," Sirius managed to get out. "Just when you think they can't get any dumber..." He shook his head. "They must've stunned each other."

Evangeline blinked. "This is possibly the stupidest thing I've ever witnessed."

At that exact moment, however, something even more ridiculous happened. A monstrous creature came stumbling over the hill, dragging heavy, gnarled feet through the snow. It was hideous—lumpy and disfigured, covered in ice and sporting a tattered mane of unkempt hair around its pimply face, which was so swollen that it obscured its eyes almost entirely. Limping forward, it let out a grunt.

"ARGHHHHHH!" Evangeline and Sirius screamed, their pitches equally loud and girly. Frantically, clumsily, they pushed themselves back along the ground, apparently unable to stand up in their state of shock.

The creature raised its swollen hands. "Guys, guys, it's only me." The voice, though sluggish and strangely affected, was nonetheless recognizable.

"_Pete_?" Sirius eyed the grotesque figure incredulously. "What the hell _happened_ to you?"

"Slytherins," the thing grunted.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Slimy gits."

"Why do I get the feeling they're a little unclear on the actual definition of a snowball fight?" said Evangeline, looking vaguely horrified.

Before anyone could comment again, Peter began to wobble slightly on his hex-deformed legs, and there was a faint 'Uh-oh!' as he began to pitch forward, arms windmilling out to the sides. Luckily, Evangeline managed to leap up and catch him right before he face-planted in the snow. Awkwardly, collapsing under his weight, she somehow was able to set him upright again.

"Sorry," Peter slurred, sounding embarrassed. "Avery did something to my feet—I fell over about fourteen times before I found you two."

With a sound of disgust, Sirius rose to his feet. "That's it," he announced. "Wormtail, I am going to go and defend your honour."

"Uuuh-oh."

Sirius, reacting instantly, grabbed Peter by the back of his coat to stop him from falling over again. "First things first though," he muttered, still holding onto his friend's collar. "Oy! Frank!"

Frank Longbottom who, by some stroke of luck, had been running past, stopped and turned.

Sirius pointed toward the boy dangling from his right hand. "Would you mind taking Pete to the Hospital Wing?"

"Er... sure thing," the tall brunet replied, taking a few steps towards them. _Of course_, Evangeline mused. If anyone would be willing to help without question, it was Frank Longbottom; he was just a good guy, plain and simple. "Blimey," he breathed when he was close enough to take in Peter's condition. "What happened?"

"Nasty run-in with a bunch of Slytherins," Sirius responded. Awkwardly, he transferred Peter's drooping form over to Frank, looping one of the boy's arms around his shoulder. He took a step back. "Thanks, mate."

"No worries," Frank replied easily, readjusting his grip on Peter's shoulders. "God, they really went all out, didn't they?"

"Yeah," Sirius muttered darkly. "But fear not, Wormtail—you will be avenged."

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Peter made his face even more screwed up than it already was. "That creepy thing you just did with your voice?" he said. "Please never do that again."

Sirius looked upward. "Gratitude, Pete. Ever heard of it?"

"Yeah," Peter replied, his tone sulky. "Right now, I'll just be grateful to get my face back. And, you know, be able to walk properly."

"Right-o then," Frank announced. "Let's get going." He clapped Peter on the shoulder and the two of them began hobbling away, moving in an awkward gait. "Don't worry, mate, Madam Pomfrey'll put you right in about a second."

As the they began to fade from sight, Evangeline tilted her head. "He's so... nice."

"Yeah. Sort of sickening, isn't it?"

"I was going to say sweet."

Sirius lifted a brow. "I hate to break it to you, but Longbottom's sort of got his sights set on someone already," he said, and there was something in his eyes as he muttered: "Besides, you're not really his type."

"Oh, shut it, I didn't mean—" Eva got halfway through an eye-roll before her pupils darted back down and refocused. "Wait... who?"

Sirius coughed. "Can't say," he replied. "Marauder's honour and all that."

"Please, as if you have one honourable bone in your body."

"I'm incredibly honourable! In fact, I have a mate to avenge, so if you'll excuse me..."

He began to walk off, but Evangeline wasn't having it; in less than a second, she was by his side again. At his questioning expression, she felt a consecutive eye-roll was necessary. "Did you really think I was going to let you kick Slytherin's arses without me?"

Staring straight ahead, Sirius smiled fleetingly. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said, and then turned to her very seriously. "I get dibs on Snivellus though."

"Deal."

* * *

_Bang._

The walls of Gryffindor's haphazard fort shook with a colossal tremor. Inside the snowy walls, students were clustered, regaining their strength after more than an hour out in the field. Lily, Isabelle and Alice were drying out their mittens with their wands, faces flushed from the cold, while James and Remus were busy replenishing the pile of snowballs that was sitting in the corner. Several first years were stationed as lookouts, either using peepholes or perched on top of the walls to overlook the grounds. It had been a rough battle so far, and they'd lost maybe half of their troupe to the temptation of warm breakfast in the Great Hall, but Gryffindor was still holding out rather brilliantly.

That is, until the ground shook again, bringing down a small section of the north-west wall. James swore loudly as a chunk of ice fell onto his head.

"We're under siege!" called out Ethan Hansen from his lookout post atop the barricade.

Grimacing as he rubbed his head, James squinted up at him. "Who is it?"

"Slytherins," Ethan shouted. He held a hand to his forehead against the sun's glare. "Hang on, I see my sister, she's—WHOAH!" A snowball had slammed into his chest, knocking him cleanly from his perch and sending him tumbling down to the fort's snowy floor. He rolled along the ground for a bit before finally coming to a stop and springing back up with a wide-eyed face of wonder. "_Wow_... that was _wicked_!"

There was barely an instant before the magicked door of the battle station was being pounded upon frantically by what sounded like more than one pair of fists. Muffled voices cried: "Let us in! Let us in!"

Skye, who had been sitting down next to the entrance and lazily plaiting the tassels on her scarf, rose to open it.

"No!" cried James, but it was too late; a pair of windswept figures tumbled in and slammed the door behind them. Beneath the chapped skin and snow-coated cloaks, they were recognizable as Sirius and Evangeline.

"Linley!" James barked. "What did I tell you about vigilance? They could have been enemy spies!"

"Can I be brutally honest here and tell you that you're taking this all _way _too seriously?"

James narrowed his eyes and then said, in all earnestness: "Moony, take her to the dungeons."

"That might be slightly difficult, considering we don't actually have—"

Another earth-shaking rumble shot beneath their feet. Something on James' face shifted, as though he was only now beginning to recognize a real threat. "Merlin, what's going on out there?" he murmured. Immediately, he spun around to address Sirius and Evangeline, who were still fighting to regain their breath. "And where've you two been?"

After a slight delay, Sirius removed his hands from his knees and straightened. "Ah, long story," he responded. "We may have... aggravated them ever so slightly. Provoked, you might say."

Evangeline, who was in the process of dusting off her mittens, snorted. "Avery was asking for it. Besides, you should have seen what they did to Peter."

"Oy, they got Pete?" James looked annoyed. "Twats. Please tell me you got revenge."

Sirius and Eva exchanged an evil look. A _very _evil look.

"Do we even want to know?" Remus tossed in from where he was leaning casually against the snowy wall, looking quite amused despite his sarcastic tone.

Evangeline's wind-bitten face broke into a smirk. She stuffed her hands back into her mittens, purposely dragging out the process in order to create suspense. "Let's just say Avery looks surprisingly attractive in a dress."

"You didn't..." James' eyes began to fill with comprehension... and glee.

"I'm scarred for life," Sirius said, a disgusted look of reminiscence on his face. "I don't think I'll ever look at high heels in the same way again."

"Yes, but he did such a good job of performing river dance in them, don't you think?"

"That _does_ take talent."

"Bloody brilliant," James choked through his laughter. "Don't suppose you managed to get a photo?"

"I wish." Sirius sighed. "It would have made such a beautiful addition to the school's artwork collection."

Evangeline smirk widened. "I was thinking the cover of Witch Weekly. He's got the legs for it."

"That's awful," Lily chided, and then frowned, looking mildly sickened. "... and disturbing. Highly disturbing."

"Again, _scarred for life_,_"_ Sirius reiterated.

"James!" All heads turned as a first-year came running over, breathless and fearful. "You'd better come see this."

"What is it?" the Head Boy asked, body tensing as his battle-sense were alerted.

The boy pointed a finger in the direction of the main wall. "The Slytherins—they're using magic. They're bringing down the fort!"

Immediately, James shot off, propelling himself toward a peephole in order to do a cursory assessment of the situation. "Shit," he breathed as he squinted out through the tiny opening. Then, using the notches the first-years had constructed to reach the lookout posts, he began to scale the enclosure, pulling himself up easily until he was straddling the wall at the top.

Beneath him, an army of Slytherins stretched out over the snow-covered ground, wands out and pointed at the Gryffindors' stronghold. At the front of their group was Laurence Travers, a tall, thin, sharp-eyed Seventh year who was rumoured to torture small animals in his spare time.

James examined them with an air of nonchalance. "Come to avenge Avery, have you?" he called down in a lofty tone. "Where _is _the fair maiden, anyway?"

"He's getting a change of clothe—"

"Shut _up _Goyle. It was rhetorical," Travers snapped.

"What's retricacl..."

"_Silencio!_"

James snorted at this. "Listen, I know the whole playing-by-the-rules thing is a bit of a stretch for you, but believe it or not the point of a snow battle is to use _snow._"

"Yes, and I'm sure it was fucking _snow _that had Avery putting on a bloody river dance spectacle by the lake." The sarcasm in Travers' tone was as thick as frozen molasses.

"You got Peter," James reminded him. "We got Avery. We're even."

"Save it Potter. And I would get down from there if I were you. _Diffindo!_"

James, unarmed and vulnerable atop the high wall, reflexively raised his arms in front of his face as the blast of light shot toward him. The spell slammed into the barricade on his right and crumbled it to dust, the impact sending him flying backward through the air. Several things happened as the wind whipped violently past his face. People were definitely screaming, a distant area of his brain noticed, and then Remus' voice was crying _'Arresto momentum!' _and his body was slowing in its descent. Before he really knew what was happening, he was dropping softly and safely to the ground, completely unharmed.

"Urgh, thanks, Moony," he said, sitting up slowly and wondering vaguely why the world looked so fuzzy. A shape that seemed to be a hand appeared in front of his nose, and he blindly grabbed hold of it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. "Cheers, er..." He squinted at the puddle of blurred colours before his eyes. "...Sirius?"

A laugh, and then: "You really _are _blind without these." Lily stood on her toes and reached up to slide his glasses back onto his face.

Just as the world became clear again, there was a booming series of noises like a machine gun and suddenly, the walls of the fort were crumbling around them at an accelerated pace.

"Everyone get away from the edges!" shouted Remus, grabbing a first-year girl by the shoulders and pulling her away just before a section of wall came avalanching down on top of her.

"Bloody hell," Sirius commented, dodging a large piece of ice. "Are they trying to kill us?"

The Gryffindors were clustered together now, backing slowly into the middle of the fort from all sides as the walls continued to fall down. They were cornered. This was the end—and they all knew it.

"What do we do?" asked Ethan, looking up to Sirius for answers.

The black-haired boy, for a moment, did an odd sort of double take. _Evangeline's eyes, _his brain commented vaguely. He blinked, recovering incredibly quickly from this minor lapse in brain function, and clenched his jaw. "We go down together," he announced. "We fight until the end."

On the left side of the mob, James reached out and grabbed Lily's hand. She smiled, stretching out her other arm to link her fingers with Isabelle's. From there, it was a chain reaction; Isabelle connected with Skye, who in turn grabbed Anna's hand, and soon the entire group was linked.

Well, the entire group minus two people.

Sirius glanced to his right, where Evangeline was holding hands with Alice and awkwardly letting her palm hang loose on the other side. Slowly, hesitantly, she looked up at him. _Blue eyes_. They were so familiar, those eyes. The thick fringe of lashes, the dark-ringed irises, the brows that arched above them. Sirius swallowed, trying to block out the emotion rising within him; he didn't want to think about that right now.

The stare lasted a lot longer than could ever be considered normal. Finally, Evangeline nudged her hand against his and their fingers connected through their gloves just as a deafening crunch filled the area and the wall collapsed entirely, leaving them exposed to the enemy.

A moment of dead silence.

And then, with a battle cry of cosmic proportions, the Gryffindors charged straight into the fray.

* * *

"I'm knackered." Sirius straddled the breakfast table bench and reached for a chocolate chip muffin, immediately shoving half of it into his mouth. "Tha' washexhausting."

James, who was pouring a cup of hot chocolate from the magically-warmed container in the centre of the table, nodded in agreement. "We may have lost, but we went down bravely."

By his side, Lily peeled off her snow-encrusted mittens and shivered. "Would you mind pouring me some of that?' she asked. "I can't feel my hands."

"I can't feel my face," Evangeline lamented, reaching up to prod her frozen cheeks. The redness gave way to mottled white beneath her touch, making her freckles stand out with startling intensity. Pathetically, she reached out for a muffin, attempting to latch onto it with limp, non-responsive fingers.

"Here." With a good-natured shake of her head, Isabelle came to her rescue, scooping up the baked good and depositing it onto her plate.

Anna looked on sardonically from down the table. "Can you manage, or should I feed it to you?"

"Oh shut it," Evangeline replied, flexing her fingers.

They were a moderate-sized group in the otherwise deserted Great Hall, sprawling across a good portion of the Gryffindor table. Just about everyone who had taken part in the snow battle and made it through unscathed was present, and the warmth of the castle was a beautiful reprieve from the icy-cold exterior. A few unlucky souls (Peter included) were still in the hospital wing having hex damages reversed; Slytherin had not been a pleasant enemy to go up against, to say the least.

"We missed the bacon," Sirius commented sadly as he eyed up the breakfast offerings.

"'Least we've still got kippers," James replied, pulling the steaming platter toward him and loading up his plate. "Want some, Moony?" He offered the dish to Remus, who was staring at his empty plate very intensely.

"Huh?" The sandy-haired boy started, blinking. "Oh, yes, thanks," he muttered, relieving James of the tray.

"Sho," Sirius began conversationally through a mouthful of toast. "Hogshmeade today. What's everyone getting me for Christmas?"

Lily wrinkled her nose. "Some table manners, apparently."

James, who was taking a sip of hot chocolate, grimaced and lowered his cup. "I hate Christmas shopping."

"You only hate it because you're terrible at it," Sirius reminded him.

"How can you be bad at _shopping_?" Evangeline wanted to know. "You just... pick things out and pay for them."

James quirked his shoulders. "Yeah, it's the picking stuff out bit that's the problem."

"You should just do what I do," Sirius suggested.

"Which is?"

"Walk into the first shop you see, grab a massive handful of shit, get the house elves to wrap it all up and then randomly stick on some name tags," he said with a shrug. "It's like a grab bag of awesomeness."

"Or thoughtlessness," Lily scoffed. "That's an absolutely awful gift-buying method."

"I do all mine by owl order," Skye put in. Her hair was still faintly green at the tips from where it had been hit by Narcissa Black during the final leg of the battle (Madam Pomfrey had assured her that it would fade back to its natural colour by the end of the day). "_Witch Weekly_'s got this really brill catalogue. Bit pricey, though."

"Speaking of owls..." James looked to the ceiling—currently the soft white-grey of a snow saturated sky—where a few birds were beginning to enter by the windows. On the weekends, morning post was a much more relaxed sort of process, with owls filtering in at staggered intervals to coordinate with the students' leisurely rising.

Pudge was leading the pack, and he dropped down in front of Evangeline with a loud _thud, _immediately bending over to drag the remainder of her muffin off of her plate. Eva had to pull the paper liner out of his beak to save him from devouring it. "Ruddy bird," she growled as she attempted to wrestle it away from his hungry mouth.

Across the table, a handsome eagle owl settled next to James, offering its leg proudly like the competent mail deliverer that Pudge clearly was not. Dropping his knife and fork onto his plate, James reached out to untie the letter that was affixed there.

"Who's 'Jam Pot'?" Sirius asked, leaning into his friend's space and examining the envelope that he now held in his hands.

James looked at him. "Excuse me?"

Sirius pointed a finger at the letter, and a wicked smile began to creep onto his face. "Jam Pot. See?"

Sure enough, he was right. The front of the envelope, which clearly had once featured James' name across its surface, looked as though it had been snow-damaged. The ink was severely smeared, turning the second halves of 'James' and 'Potter' into muddled, inky messes.

While Sirius started snickering, James made an exasperated face. "Oh please, Padfoot, that's so stupid."

Sirius fixed him with a stoic expression. "Sorry, Jam Pot. Not funny at all."

"Sirius?"

"Yes, Jam Pot?"

"Stop calling me Jam Pot."

"Alright, sorry mate... Could you pass me that pot of jam, please?"

"_Sirius._"

"No, I really need it for my toast... Please, Jam Pot?"

A welcome distraction presented itself when a disturbance was felt along the wooden bench, indicating a newcomer. There was a collective double take as everyone blinked at the unfamiliar, blonde-haired male.

And blinked.

And blinked.

"_Wormtail?" _Sirius' jaw dropped so far that it practically fell off of his face.

"Oh, hey everyone," Peter greeted them casually. Well, he _seemed _to be Peter, anyway, but he looked nothing like the paunchy, thick-set chap they had come to recognize over their six years of school together. His face—no, scratch that—his entire_ body _looked slimmer, more trim. There was a new definition to his cheeks that made his boyish face appear more adult, and the leanness of his figure gave an attractive silhouette to his sweater and jeans.

"Pete, mate, you look... different," James said faintly.

Beaming, Peter grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit in front of him and bit into it with a satisfying crunch. "Yeah," he replied. "When Madam Pomfrey was getting rid of the swelling, I just let her keep going a bit longer. Brilliant, right?"

If he expected a response to this question, he was sorely disappointed. There was nothing but complete silence until Evangeline's fork fell out of her hand and clanged onto her plate. She did not even seem to notice.

Finally, Isabelle, who had averted her eyes out of compassion and was staring vaguely at the newspaper that a large barn owl had just delivered, did _another _double take. This time, however, it had nothing to do with Peter Pettigrew. Hastily, she grabbed the paper and stared intently at the word her eyes had picked up.

"Eva, your dad's in the Prophet," she said.

Evangeline nearly choked on her hot chocolate. "What? Where? It's not something completely embarrassing, is it?"

"_Wizengamot To Vote on New Muggle Rights Bill," _Isabelle read the heading aloud. Her eyes flicked back and forth as she continued to verbalize the article, quickly and yet very accurately:_"'Later this month, the Wizengamot will meet to examine a controversial new bill concerning muggle rights. The proposed law concerns the possibility of granting the parents of muggleborn witches and wizards access to strictly magical areas such as Diagon Alley. Wizengamot chairperson Lionel Hansen, of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, has publicly shown his support for the idea. 'It's something that should have happened long ago, if you ask me,' says Hansen.' _Blah, blah, blah, and so on and so forth..." As she trailed off, Isabelle glanced up.

"Wow," Lily said, looking slightly stunned. "That's huge. A huge step, I mean. That would be fantastic, though, if it happened."

"But weird, don't you think?" Skye tilted her head to the side, and Lily was reminded once again of why the girl tended to get on her nerves. "Can you imagine—muggles in Diagon Alley?"

"Yes, but it's not as though they're opening it up to the whole world," Lily countered, eyes narrowing a little. "Just parents. And I agree with Eva's dad. It's about time."

Eva cringed a little at the mention of her father. "Dad'll be right proud of himself that he managed to make the front page of the Prophet," she said without enthusiasm. "It's one of his life's goals. He'll have this framed on the mantel when I get home, I swear."

Just as she said this, a shadow fell across her plate, and a someone cleared their throat inelegantly from behind. Evangeline had to look no further than the stringy hair and pompous posture to figure out who it was.

"Bentley," she grunted. "What do you want?"

The Hufflepuff was regarding her with an expression that was mildly perturbing. "To talk, for a moment, if you don't mind?" He gestured behind him, indicating his desire for a more private location.

Across the table, Sirius had gone noticeably rigid.

Evangeline cast a desperate glance around the hall, not feeling particularly comfortable with where this conversation was headed. "Er, can we just talk here?" she begged. "It's just that I don't really want my... marmalade... to go cold..." Pointlessly, she gestured toward the only thing remaining on her plate—a mostly devoured (and already quite frigid) piece of toast.

Jacob looked a bit disconcerted. After a long pause: "I guess." For a brief moment, his self-assured air seemed to falter. He cleared his throat again. "Well, I was just wondering if you'd like to join me in Hogsmeade today."

Silence. Frantically, Evangeline racked her mind for a legitimate-sounding excuse that wasn't _No, thank you, I find you to be an arrogant arse._ Her plate had never looked more interesting than it did in that moment.

"She can't." Sirius' voice was sharp and icy.

Everyone jerked their heads toward him at this out-of-the-blue interjection. With her mouth gaping open as it was, Evangeline looked as though she had just witnessed a Holy miracle. Bentley, on the other hand, looked as though he'd swallowed a spider. Or ten.

"Why not, Black?"

Cold grey eyes narrowed. "Because," Sirius' gaze did not falter, "she's going with me."

* * *

A sound of a door opening, the creak of bed springs, and then...

"What just happened?" This dazed inquiry came from Evangeline, who had flopped over onto her four-poster and was now just sort of laying there pathetically, staring at the wall.

Isabelle lowered herself onto the corner of the bed. "I think Sirius Black just asked you to Hogsmeade."

At this, Eva let out some sort of unintelligible noise that sounded like a dying cat.

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little?" Lily replaced the bottle of perfume she'd been using and turned around to quirk an eyebrow at the lifeless heap that was her friend.

"No," Evangeline said straight away. There was a long block of silence. "Well," she reconsidered after a while, lifting her head and propping herself up with her arms. "Am I? Possibly? Hopefully." She looked terrified. "Just... what did he mean by it, do you reckon?"

"Considering he bolted right after he said it, it's hard to say," Isabelle reasoned.

Eva's eyes housed an agitation that was hard to describe. "Was it... some sort of weird joke?" she suggested desperately.

"Eva, we're just as confused as you are, trust me." Lily, who was brushing her hair out, caught her eye through the ornate mirror above her dressing table. "Sirius' head is a dark, twisted place."

"But he doesn't _actually _want to go with me, right?" Evangeline looked back and forth between the two girls for validation. Then, out of the blue, something lit up her face. "I just won't go!" she exclaimed, as though all of the world's problems had suddenly been solved. "I'll say I got sick. You two'll cover for me, yeah?"

Lily sighed, pausing from pinning back the front section of her hair. "Don't be stupid. How else are you going to do your Christmas shopping?" she asked through a lipful of bobby pins.

The girl was staring off into space with a contented expression. "I'll just use that owl order thing that Skye was talking about. I'm sure Witch Weekly's got a great selection..."

Lily made a face. "Listen to what you're saying," she said bluntly.

"You're being ridiculous," Isabelle agreed.

"This whole situation is bloody ridiculous!" Evangeline flopped backward again with a loud huff. "This is all Bentley's fault."

Perhaps wisely, Lily and Isabelle decided to let the brunette stew for a little while, and both went about their business getting ready for the trip to the village. Lily finished with her hair and redid her snow-smeared makeup, finally rummaging through her trunk and extracting a thick black sweater to layer under her cloak. On the adjacent side of the room, Isabelle was staring at her clothing collection with a ruminative look on her face. When this began to go on for a ludicrously lengthy amount of time, Lily decided to step in.

"You can borrow something of mine, if you'd like."

Isabelle started. "What? Oh, no, that's alright, thanks." She shook her head slightly and extracted a coat from the pile. Then, she put one arm through a sleeve and paused again, frozen in a decidedly odd position as she stared ahead with glazed eyes. After several more minutes of this statuesque posture, the blonde eventually turned.

"Lily?" Her voice was microscopic.

"Yes?"

"Have you noticed anything... off?...about Remus lately? I know you two talk sometimes."

Something inside Lily became cold; her heart seemed to almost slow down within her chest. "Er, how do you mean, off?"

Isabelle fretted with the sleeves of her coat. "I can't really describe it—he just hasn't really been himself. And the past couple of days, he's barely been speaking to me. I just feel like... like maybe I've done something wrong."

The downtrodden quality of her friend's voice broke Lily's heart. It pained her enormously to see the confusion and doubt flit around on Isabelle's face—to know the real reason for her agitation, and yet be so unable to explain it. "That's rubbish, Isa," she said. "You can't blame yourself. He's probably just had an off week with all the homework we've been getting. Plus, his mum was sick again a few days ago. I bet he's just stressed."

"Yes, that's another thing." Isabelle's eyebrows angled downward. "He's always disappearing on me. I swear, every few weeks _something _happens to drag him out of class for a couple of days. And then there was that time that Sirius and James lied to me and told me he'd gone to see his girlfriend." She stared very hard at her hands. "He never _did_ tell me what really happened there. I don't know, don't you ever feel like there's just something... not quite right going on with him?"

Lily's heart truly felt like it was going to burst out of her chest now. "I haven't really noticed," she said weakly. "But whatever it is, I'm sure he'll tell you eventually."

Isabelle sighed. "I hope you're right."

Suddenly itching to get out of the stuffy room, Lily glanced over at Evangeline's lumpy silhouette on the bed and then turned back toward Isabelle with a look to convey her thoughts. "Shall we wrestle her out the door?"

Isabelle scrunched up her nose. "We can try..."

* * *

The snow-covered village of Hogsmeade stretched out before the mass of Hogwarts students, a cluster of mismatched shops, garlands and twinkling Christmas lights that was bustling with activity. A group of carollers stood by the entrance to The Three Broomsticks, their yuletide melodies drifting up toward the sky and infusing the area with an undeniable feel of the holiday season. Witches and wizards in long cloaks bustled from store to store, laden down with bags full of Christmas shopping, some with small children trailing behind, their candy-cane-stained faces stretched into wondrous smiles as they peered through frosted shop windows.

"I love Christmas," Lily sighed as the group came upon High Street and paused for a moment, admiring the enchanted candles that adorned a thicket of evergreen trees.

"Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you?" Anna commented. "It's still a while off."

"Only a couple of weeks," Lily said. "Besides, I love Christmas at _any _time of year."

"Me too," Evangeline agreed with a contented sigh. Isabelle and Lily had managed (with much prodding) to rouse her from bed, and she appeared to be progressing toward a much better frame of mind. Mind you, that may have had something to do with the fact that Sirius was at the far back of the group, and thus nowhere near her immediate vicinity.

Unfortunately, the buffer of people separating the two was diminishing at a very quick rate. At the top of the hill, the group began splitting off into smaller parties. Peter, whose new look had instilled him with a great deal of confidence, had asked a pretty Asian girl named Monique to accompany him on the shopping trip, and the two of them were the first to leave the larger mob, heading off down a cobbled side street. Next, Isabelle and Remus left silently, looking strangely disconnected despite being hand-in-hand.

"Shall we?" James asked, clearing his throat and offering his arm to Lily gentleman-style. Still giddy with Christmas Spirit, Lily accepted it with a grin, and they were off.

Evangeline watched her friends leave with a growing sense of panic. She almost reached an arm out after Lily as she waltzed away, as though to snatch her back. _Don'tleavemealonewithhim! _Unsurprisingly, the redhead did not seem to hear her silent-yet-hysterical plea. They really needed to work on their telepathic communication skills. Very aware of her sudden solitude, Evangeline tensed and slowly, reluctantly, turned her head.

Sirius was much closer than she'd imagined. He was standing a few feet away and watching her with an oddly tentative expression. Grey eyes met deep blue, and for a moment there was just that—a long, silent stare.

And then, at what was perhaps the perfect moment, a familiar stringy-haired figure walked past with a group of Hufflepuffs, eyeing the awkward pair with shrewd eyes. This seemed to spark something within Sirius, and at once, he took the few necessary footsteps to close the gap between them, all the while regarding Bentley with a sinister expression. Evangeline, once again, marvelled at this fierce over-protectiveness, and wondered where on Earth it was all coming from.

"Hi," Sirius said. He had stopped by her side and was looking down at her with an intensity that was hard to describe.

Nervous under his gaze, Evangeline brushed her hair behind her ears. "... Hi."

There was a long pause here, and Sirius stuck his hands into his pockets, turning to regard the village that was stretched out before them, his breath visible in the crisp air. "So, I figure we should probably make this believable."

At this, Evangeline breathed in sharply and the cold air seemed to irritate her lungs. She coughed.

"Not like... actually... you know." Sirius cleared his throat. "We should just stay together. Walk around and stuff."

_Right, walking around. I remember how to do that, right? _Faintly, Evangeline felt herself nod. "Okay."

And so, in silence, they set off down the hill and into the twinkling shopping district, the only sound between them coming from the snow crunching beneath their boots.

The situation, Evangeline decided after some thought, was one of those phenomenons where something is so strange that it comes full circle and is almost normal again. For some reason, after this little revelation, she felt the need to voice the question that had been buzzing around in her head all morning. "Why'd you do it?"

Sirius missed his queue to talk. After what seemed like a century, his shoulders rose up in a slow shrug. "I had to help you out," he responded, and his tone was surprisingly lighthearted. "You're terrible at excuses. That marmalade thing was just painful to listen to."

"Oi!" Eva protested, though she knew he had a point.

"Really though..." Sirius' expression was more sober now, as he considered. "I know blokes like Bentley. I don't like the way he treats you. It's clear he's only interested because you're pretty."

Evangeline tripped over her own feet. _He didn't... Did he just...?_ Her mind was in a frenzied state, hovering somewhere between confused, irritated and... hopeful? Mainly confused, though.

"Well, thanks, I suppose," she finally managed to get out.

There was another round of silence. They were in the heart of the village now, flanked on both sides by snow-covered shop awnings and wreathed wooden doors that jingled as they opened and closed. For a few more minutes, the two of them continued their silent wandering down the street, until:

"Where are we actually going?" Evangeline thought to ask.

Sirius came to a halt and turned to face her. "I dunno, I was following you."

"Great, that's helpful."

"You're the girl," Sirius pointed out. "You're meant to be in charge of the shopping."

Making a face, Evangeline put her hands on her hips. "Ignoring the fact that that's totally chauvinistic, we both know that shopping is _not_ my thing."

"It's not mine either, obviously. There's probably nothing I'd rather be doing less right now."

"Same, but..." Evangeline considered, "...what does one generally _do _in Hogsmeade if not shop?"

Sirius looked around thoughtfully until his eyes landed on a tiny store that was squeezed between two larger ones, and lit up with inspiration. "Eat," he responded, marching in the direction of the entrance.

Evangeline, who had to admit that she quite liked this idea, took a closer look and found herself staring at a cozy little stone establishment that had never really caught her notice before. The painted wooden sign above the awning read _Clarinda's Bakery. _Sirius held the door open for her and it jingled closed, admitting them into a warm interior that smelled of gingerbread and peppermint. A small counter stood to their right, connecting to a glass case full of all manner of delicious-looking sweets. There was a display of beautiful cakes that almost looked too good to eat—some were adorned with glowing lights, others with enchanted scenes that moved and swirled across the icing. On the counter, there was an elaborate gingerbread house, and it was continually dusted with powdery icing sugar that fell like snow over the candy cane trees and gumdrop chimney.

The whole thing was rather like stepping into a scene from a Christmas card, Evangeline marvelled, as she finally managed to pry her eyes away from the sweets and allowed them to trail around the rest of the shop. There was a fireplace crackling merrily in the corner that sent a dancing sheen of light over the rest of the slightly darkened interior. Tables clothed in red leaned upon the wooden floor, and glistening snowflakes made of real ice dangled from the ceiling. Everything about the decor gave a sensation of coming home to the warmth of Christmas.

Evangeline did not even notice that Sirius had advanced to the counter until she looked over and saw him standing there, dropping a pile of coins into the hand of an elderly witch and accepting a paper bag in return.

"Cheers," Sirius thanked the woman, and she smiled after him, eyeing Evangeline with a knowing, happy grin.

_Oh Merlin, she must think we're... _This train of thought was stopped in its tracks, thank goodness, when Sirius returned and wordlessly pulled two gingerbread elves from the bag, handing one to Evangeline. She stared down at the swirls of icing and soft biscuit base, and then looked up dazedly. "My favourite," she murmured, almost to herself.

Sirius' smile was in his eyes but barely on his lips as he bit the head off of his elf. "I know."

* * *

"Remus, wait."

As they neared the entrance to Honeydukes, Isabelle reached out and grabbed his arm lightly, forcing him to come to a stop. The air between the two of them was as frosty and painful as the wind in their faces, and frankly, she had had enough of it; she wanted answers. With a frown, she loosened her grip on his wrist as Remus complied with her request, looking slightly stunned.

Isabelle tried to find the words she was looking for. _Why aren't you talking to me? What did I do wrong? And why are you acting so bloody broody? _Of course, she lacked the courage to voice the real questions fitting through her head, and so she finally settled on: "Is everything okay?"

A hundred things passed through the boy's haunted-looking eyes as he stared back, wordlessly, for several long moments. He couldn't seem to reply.

"Actually... no," Isabelle continued slowly, finding some sort of strength within herself, "that's a stupid question because clearly, it's not."

"I..." The traces of fear and anxiety on Remus' tired face were a bit frightening. He glanced around nervously for a moment, and then suddenly seemed to come to some sort of decision. His eyes stopped moving, as though he was taken aback by something in his thoughts, and he swallowed. Then, with a tremulous intake of breath, he met her eyes. "Actually... well... it's..." His voice broke. "There's something I need to tell you."

His tone had something in it that made Isabelle freeze. A wave of understanding began to reach her, and she felt her heart rise in her throat as she eyed him with defeated eyes, urging him to say it.

Strangely, Remus merely began looking around the street anxiously, eyes twitching back and forth between the multitude of shoppers passing them by. "Not here," he muttered, and his eyes settled upon an overhang across the street. "Over there."

Was it really that big of a deal to break up with her in public, Isabelle wondered? Maybe he wanted to spare her the embarrassment. She frowned; that was probably it. Of course he would want to let her down gently.

As they found themselves nestled into the privacy of the new space, Remus' agitated state seemed to reach a whole new level. He fiddled with his mittens for a few seconds before finally shoving his hands into his pockets to still them. As he did this, Isabelle glanced upward and saw a look in his eyes that startled her. For the first time, she really began to feel uneasy; a shiver shot through her entire being, and it had nothing to do with the winter air.

"Seriously," she whispered, leaning toward him with searching eyes. "What's going on?"

* * *

A wreathed wooden door burst open, and James and Lily stumbled out of Dervish and Banges, red-faced and flustered and looking incredibly relieved to be back out in the open.

"That was insane," Lily breathed, struggling to readjust her grip on the multiple bags in her hands.

James looked more than slightly ruffled. "I can't believe that old granny hit me with her purse," he said. "... twice."

Lily bit back a laugh and tried to look sympathetic. "That did look quite painful."

"Woman had _rocks _in there, I'm telling you. Bloody hell, all I did was offer to get that book off the shelf for her."

"I think she thought you were trying to take it for yourself," Lily told him. "Old people can be quite vicious when it comes to Christmas shopping."

"Yeah," James growled. "Just reminds me of why I hate it. Anyway..." He looked over at Lily, who was pulling a folded sheet of parchment out of her bag. "Where to next?"

The redhead crossed something off of her list and considered. "I've just about got everyone done... but I still need something for Peter."

"Pete's easy. Just buy him sweets and he'll love you forever."

Lily laughed. "Honeydukes then?"

"Sure."

The sweet shop was fairly close by, and before they knew it they were pushing open the door and staring down the rows and rows of colourful sugary treats. It was packed inside, mostly full of Hogwarts students, though Lily spotted a couple of haggard-looking witches pushing their way through the crowd of teenagers. As she and James navigated their way across the threshold, Lily felt somebody bump into her.

"Oh, sorry..." She glanced up straight into Evangeline's lightly freckled face. The girl had a lollipop in her mouth and a bag of chocoballs hanging from one hand. Sirius was right behind her, similarly loaded up with candy.

"Oh, hey," Eva greeted them. "How's the shopping going?"

Lily held up the bags that were currently cutting into her fingers. "Just about finished," she responded. "How'd you lot make out?"

Evangeline and Sirius exchanged a sheepish sort of look, Sirius mid-bite of a chocolate frog. Lily noticed that neither one of them was holding any sort of bag that might have housed anything other than confectionary.

Eva cleared her throat. "Err.. we haven't exactly done... well... anything."

"What on earth have you been up to all this time?" Lily demanded.

Sirius shoved the rest of his frog into his mouth. "Eating."

"Why am I not surprised?" Despite his sardonic tone, it was clear that James was slightly envious.

Evangeline seemed distracted all of a sudden. She was squinting through the storefront window, lollipop hanging loosely from her hand. "Isn't that Isa and Remus?" she asked, and the others turned their heads to follow her gaze. Sure enough, the pair was standing below an overhang across the street.

For some reason, the four of them slowly crept closer to the window and stared out through the frosted glass.

"Why are we spying on them?" Lily asked, turning to regard her fellow conspirators.

Sirius grinned. "Because, spying is fun."

James raised his eyebrows. "I don't particularly fancy watching them snog, thanks."

Across the street, however, Remus stuck his hands into his pockets, looking visibly uncomfortable. Isabelle crossed her arms, leaning toward him with concern written all over her face, and then frowned.

The corners of his mouth turning down, James leaned closer to the glass. "Hang on, that definitely wasn't a snog..."

"Actually, this looks bad," Sirius muttered. "Why is he...?"

Suddenly, James went rigid. "Padfoot. He's... You don't think..." He made some sort of strange, flailing gesture, and beside him, Lily's eyes widened in silent understanding.

Sirius' jaw dropped, and a bunch of biscuit crumbs fell out. "Oh, Merlin." He swallowed. "I can't watch this."

"What are you talking about?" Evangeline asked around her lollipop.

Sirius met her eyes, and his gaze conveyed something meaningful. "He's... telling her... you know, the_ thing_."

"Oh... Oh! Oh my god."

"Wait, you _know_?" Lily whipped around to face her friend, taken aback.

Evangeline looked equally stunned. "_You _know?"

"About the thing? Since recently, yes. But when –?"

"Oi, shh." Sirius shushed them, directing everyone's attention back toward the scene playing out before them.

Framed by the grey stone of an arched alleyway, the two figures stood very close to one another, as though exchanging whispers.

And then it happened.

In that moment, there was no questioning what the words coming out of Remus' mouth were. Four sets of eyes watched through the frosted window as all the colour drained from Isabelle's face and she took a jerky step back, staggering into the stone wall behind her with a hand raised to her mouth. Driven as though by some impulsive panic, she stumbled off blindly through the snow, shooting one final, distressed look behind her before her eyes squinted closed and she burst into tears.

Remus watched her leave with an impassive expression, though his eyes bore the sting of a a strange, melancholic nostalgia. Long after she faded from sight, he stood there under the overhang, feeling the cold slap of the wind against his face and staring at the snowy horizon with that same haunted gaze.

For four teenagers, the warmth of Honeydukes had all but disappeared. On the other side of the glass, they took a few steps back and shared a look of complete and utter disbelief.

Finally, after an excruciatingly long moment, Sirius shook his head. "...Fuck."

* * *

**A/N:** And on _that _inappropriate note...

Whew, it's done! I should probably add a disclaimer that this has not been edited properly yet. I'm absolutely swamped with schoolwork right now, but I really wanted to drop in and get this chapter up so that I could feel like I'd accomplished SOMETHING outside of Site Engineering today. The next chapter is going to be a VERY big one. As in, I've been looking forward to writing it since I posted the first chapter of WITS back in 2007... How's that for suspense?

Also, I've been thinking, how would you guys feel if I started a blog or something? Just somewhere where you could go to get updates on how the next chapter is coming along, etc. (because I know the time between my updates can get really irritatingly long).

Oh, and one more thing before I go back to slowly dying by homework overload: Izzie SD was kind and awesome enough to send me some WITS banners that she made, which I thought was so cool. Links are in my profile, if anyone would like to see them. :)

Thank you so much to everyone who reviews WITS. I don't know what I would do without you guys!

-Liz


	15. Christmas Lights, Part One

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: Christmas Lights (Part One)**

_You are cordially invited to the residence of Mr and Mrs Lionel _  
_and Selene Hansen for an evening of Yuletide festivities and holiday cheer._

_Saturday, December 25, 1976_  
_At 7 o'clock in the evening_  
_Number 11 Grimmauld Place, London_

_Please RSVP by December 15_

The first thing to greet Evangeline and Ethan when they arrived home for the holidays was not a 'hello', or a hug, or anything resembling a reasonable greeting from their parents. No; the moment the two of them apparated into the white marble foyer of number 11 Grimmauld Place from King's Cross station, they were immediately set upon by a whirlwind that looked suspiciously like their father.

"Brilliant! You're home!" _Yank. _Without giving them so much as a second to catch their breath, Lionel Hansen grabbed the pair by their hands and began dragging them down the hallway. He was a tall man, with twinkling blue eyes and a slight gut on his otherwise lean frame. Right now, with his excited movements and boyish grin, he resembled an overenthusiastic seven-year-old.

"Dad, what're you—?" Evangeline stumbled along awkwardly, suitcase falling from her hand in the commotion and dropping with a thud against the marble floor.

As they passed by the kitchen, Ethan craned his neck back. "Hi Mum!" he shouted as they whooshed by the door.

There was a clang of silverware against the table and Selene stuck her head through the doorway. "Lionel!" She chided when she caught sight of them, "What did I tell you about not attacking them? Give them a moment, for Merlin's sake."

Reluctantly, Mr. Hansen released his grip on his children. "Alright fine," he said breathlessly, and then, two seconds later: "There, a moment. Good to go now?"

Selene crossed her arms, eyes rolling heavenwards. "Your father's been looking forward to this all day."

"I can tell," Ethan replied, rubbing his wrist. "But... why? What is it?"

"You'll see, Ethers," Lionel announced. "Right, both of you, close your eyes."

There were a few moments of silence before: "Dad... we'd better not be going outside."

"Eva, I said eyes _closed_!"

"But I'm not dressed for cold weather!"

"Ah, you'll be fine."

"You're selling us into slavery, aren't you?" Ethan asked suspiciously as he trudged along with his eyes squeezed shut.

"Putting us up for adoption?" suggested Evangeline.

"Forcing us to go visit Great Auntie Dorothy?"

"Setting us out as dragon bait?"

Lionel sighed. "Such positive children I've raised," he said as they finally came to a halt. "Go on, open your eyes."

Eyelids fluttered open, and Evangeline found herself standing in the middle of the front lawn, facing the dark, snow-covered silhouette of their house. The moon was barely a sliver in the black sky, and the ancient street lamps cast a feeble glow that scarcely extended past the wrought iron fence.

"...I can't see a thing," Ethan said.

Lionel merely smiled and raised his wand. From the doorway, Selene watched with an expression that was a perfect combination of endearment and exasperation.

"_Lumos exsisto!_" Their father's clear incantation rang out into the night.

It was like watching a million multicoloured fireflies rise from the earth. Coils of light came out of nowhere, glowing vividly in every colour of the rainbow, and twisted around windows and trees in beautiful, dynamic shapes. A strand of holly dotted with pure white lights draped itself across the rails of the front porch while several star-shaped ornaments flew to the rim of the chimney. Shades of red, yellow and green reflected in icicles that hung from the roof's edge as garlands and red velvet bows joined the spectacle, festooning the staircase. Finally, everything came to a halt and Number 11 Grimmauld Place gleamed with a rainbow of Christmas spirit into the snowy night sky.

"What do you think?" Lionel Hansen grinned down at his children where they stood on the front lawn, mouths gaping open in wonder.

"That was _bloody brilliant_," Ethan gasped.

"Oi now, language mate," Lionel commented. "Although I'd say you're bloody well right."

Evangeline was still examining the light show with a look of complete and utter awe. "How long did that take to set up?"

"Oh, a few hours," Lionel replied airily. A loud cough came from the vicinity of the front door. "Or, well, perhaps more than a few... might've been a day or two altogether..."

"Five days, honey," Selene called out.

Lionel raised a hand to the back of his head. "Was it...?"

"I'm starved," Ethan cut in. "What's for dinner?"

"Steak pie." Their father grinned, eyes sliding to the side slyly. "And it pains me to tell you this, but unfortunately..." He tensed, as though preparing for something. "...You don't get any." Suddenly bolting, he ran back toward the house and pulled the door shut, turning the lock with a resounding _click._

Eva and Ethan weren't too far behind him. They ran together, snow crunching underfoot, and then pounded on the window angrily. "Dad! That's just cruel."

"_Lionel! Stop harassing the children!" _Selene's voice could be heard even through the glass of the door.

There was a heavy sigh, another _click, _and then the door was creaking open. Evangeline wasted no time in stalking across the threshold and shoving her father roughly in the shoulder.

"They're harassing _me!_" Lionel protested, holding his arm and looking outraged. Evangeline scoffed, and her father's expression morphed as he grinned down at her roguishly. In a very familiar movement, he ruffled her hair. "Welcome home, Eva."

* * *

King's Cross station, lit completely by lamps under the snowy night sky, was swarming with warmly dressed travellers. The holiday season always drew enormous crowds to the platforms, meaning that it tended to be extremely difficult for students to cross through the wall undetected by muggles at this time of year. On this particular evening however, not one person turned their head as a redhead emerged casually from the bricks, dragging a heavy trunk and pushing her long hair out of her face. Lily Evans proceeded to take several steps forward and scan the crowd for her parents, while simultaneously waiting for Isabelle to appear.

The blonde was only a couple of seconds behind, and she walked out silently, expressionlessly, as though every thought was being funnelled into placing her feet one in front of the other. This strange, over-calculated movement was not uncommon these days; Isabelle didn't say much anymore. For almost two weeks now, she had been lost in a strange sort of depression, hidden away in a place where she was almost completely untouchable, even to her best friends. As they stood side by side on the platform, Lily wondered if she was still angry with her and Evangeline after the fallout from the events in Hogsmeade. Against her desire, her brain immediately thought back to that day, after their return to the dormitory, and what had happened. The images were still as clear as glass.

_The door creaked open, admitting two figures into the darkened dorm. Muffled sobs immediately met their ears, and they exchanged a glance; the curtains on Isabelle's bed were tightly closed, with no gaps whatsoever visible between the thick fabric sections. Tentatively, as though something might break, Lily took a step forward and let her bags slide to the ground. "...Isa?"_

_There was a sniffle, and then, "Go away."_

_"We just want to—"_

_"Please." Her voice was sharp. "I just... want to be alone."_

_The girls exchanged another glance, looking equally lost as to what to do. Finally, Lily turned meekly. "Alright, well... we're here, when you want to talk."_

_As it turned out, Isabelle did not want to talk until the next day, when the curtains of her four-poster finally came unstuck and she emerged, looking as though she hadn't stopped crying in over twenty-four hours. Lily had given a very pointed look to Anna, who had been reading Witch Weekly on her bed, and the girl had immediately taken the hint and cleared out to the common room._

_As the door swung shut, Lily took a long look at Isabelle's tired-looking face. Dark shadows hung under her swollen eyes, and fresh-looking tear tracks were still visible on her red cheeks. "Are you okay?" It was a stupid question, really, but it was the only thing that she could think to say under the circumstances._

_Isabelle sniffed. She breathed in. She breathed out. And then her face crumpled as she dissolved into a fresh round of tears. "Remus," she choked out. "It's... he's... I don't even..."_

_"We know," Evangeline said, her voice low and sympathetic._

_Lily nodded. "We know."_

_The crying stopped abruptly, and in its place something else began to creep in. Isabelle looked up. "You know," she said, and there was something dangerous in her tone. "Hang on... you knew... all along?"_

_Taking her friends' silence as an expression of accord, she let out a little cry of disbelief. "You _knew_. You knew all along and you never told me!"_

_"Isa, it wasn't like that. We—"_

_"God! You probably talked about it all the time, behind my back." A sharp, hysteric intake of breath, and then, in a very deadly tone: "How the _hell _could you let this happen to me?" Her voice trembled slightly, and Lily and Evangeline were stunned into silence. It was the first time that they had ever heard Isabelle swear._

_"Who else knows?" Isabelle continued, taking a few angry steps toward her dresser and ripping her elastic out of her hair. "The whole world probably, besides his ruddy girlfriend."_

_"I didn't even know until a couple months ago," Lily pointed out, feeling a lump rising in her throat. "And it was an accident—I didn't—"_

_"I'm taking a shower," Isabelle said abruptly. She pulled the bathroom door open in a rough movement. "And then I'm going to bed."_

_And with that, she slammed the door in their faces._

On the crowded platform, Lily turned to look at Isabelle, whose eyes were focused straight ahead. After her initial outburst, the blonde had retreated to a shell of complete silence. She hadn't exactly avoided Lily and Evangeline, but she didn't really speak to them much either, and when she did, it was something stupid like a comment on how Slughorn's latest essay was brutal. The topic of Remus' lycanthropy hadn't been brought up even once since that night. The boy in question seemed resigned to a similar sort of silent struggle. He hadn't bothered to approach Isabelle after his confession, and Lily gathered from James that he'd accepted that she was gone, and did not plan on returning.

"I see my mum over there. I should get going." Isabelle broke the terse silence in a monotone, pointing vaguely to a bunch of people in the distance.

Lily smiled, but it felt sort of artificial. "Alright. See you at Eva's, right?"

"Mmm hmm. Happy Christmas, Lily."

"Yeah... you too." She watched in silence as the girl faded away, enveloped by the sea of people. Then, out of nowhere, there was a tap on her shoulder.

"You alright? You look angry." James, dressed in a heavy black coat and his Gryffindor scarf, was standing by her side, eyeing her quizzically.

Lily considered. "Not angry, just..." She looked around for Isabelle's blonde curls. "... sort of frustrated, I guess. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were disapparating from the platform."

"Nah, my parents decided they wanted to come and meet us after all. Dad got the night off work." He glanced up. "Oh, there they are now. Come on." Before Lily had a chance to register what was happening, he grabbed her hand and began pulling her in the direction of an older, well-dressed couple, trunk dragging along behind in his other hand.

"James!" Lily hissed. She wrestled her hand from his grasp. "I can't meet them _now."_

"Why not?" He sounded genuinely confused.

Flustered, Lily readjusted her gloves. "It's not... I'm not prepared. What if they hate me?"

"That's impossible," James said. "Oi, Mum! Dad!"

As the shout echoed across the platform and his parents turned their heads, Lily glared at the boy with steely eyes. He had effectively made it impossible to escape.

"James!" The woman, greying hair falling neatly around a pretty face, pulled him into a tight hug when he was within arm's reach. "How are you? Where's Sirius?" She craned her head to look behind him.

"Oi." James looked dismayed. "Why is that always the first thing you say? Can't you just be glad to see your actual son for once?"

His mother's eyes rolled upward behind her glasses. "Don't be silly, dear. It was the second thing I said."

James crossed his arms, though there was a hint of a smirk on his face. "If you must know, he and Pete are off harassing the trolley lady."

Mr. Potter, a tall, wiry man with salt-and-pepper hair, lifted his eyebrows. "Sounds like it ought to be a good story."

"Not really. They're on a mission to prove Sirius' theory that she lives on the train and turns into sugar dust at the end of the ride."

"Seems... reasonable."

Lily, who was standing awkwardly a few steps away, let out a quiet laugh at this. The sound got James' attention, and he turned around with renewed purpose, grabbing her hand once more to pull her forward.

"Mum, Dad, this is..."

"Let me guess," James' mother smiled a shrewd, knowing grin, "Lily Evans?"

Lily glanced to her left, where the colour was pouring out of James' face in what was practically a visible waterfall. "Er... yes." She took the woman's outstretched hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"And nice to finally meet you, dear," Mrs. Potter responded as Lily exchanged pleasantries with her husband. "We've heard an _awful _lot about you—"

"Mum!" James' voice was strangled.

"—and really, you're every bit as lovely as he's always saying—"

"_Mum!_"

By some stroke of luck, Sirius swooped in at exactly this moment, a large bag of sweets swinging to and fro where it was held in his hand. "Evening, all. Chocolate frog?" He proffered the sac with a grin.

James' hand shot out immediately, as an alcoholic's might as he reached for a drink after a particularly stressful day. Tearing off the wrapper, he turned to face his mother and muttered through gritted teeth: "Look Mum, Sirius is here. Maybe you can embarrass him for a while."

"Well, it_ is_ good to see you, Sirius, dear." Shaking her head good-naturedly at her son, she pulled Sirius into a hug and patted his back. Her hazel eyes, however, became quite critical as she stepped away, flicking back and forth between the two boys. "You're both looking a bit thin, aren't you? Are they feeding you enough?"

"It's Hogwarts, Mary," Mr. Potter reminded her. "They're probably getting fed far too much."

"Sirius ate an entire roast chicken at dinner last night," Lily informed them, reluctantly remembering the incident. It had been an altogether quite disturbing spectacle.

Sirius grimaced a little. "Admittedly I may have overcommitted a tad there. Don't reckon I'll be eating poultry again for a while."

"Watch, he'll have it tonight," James muttered, and Lily grinned.

James' mother shook her head again, lips turning up at the sides. "Teenage boys... Insane, isn't it Lily?"

"It really is."

"So how did your mission go?" James asked Sirius, who was digging through his bag for a chocolate frog.

Immediately, his face lit up with excitement. He took a step forward, looking as though he was about to impart some great secret of the universe, and asked in a hushed, mystical voice: _"Have you ever wondered where the trolley lady disappears to after the train ride's over?"_

A slight silence, and then: "No," said Lily, James, Mrs. Potter and Mr. Potter.

"No, but think about it!" Sirius looked highly dismayed. "It's been the same witch ever since first year! Don't you ever wonder what she does for the three-hundred-and-sixty-one days of the year that the Hogwarts Express _isn't _running?"

James faked a desperately enraptured gaze. "What _is _the answer to this deeply pressing question?"

Sirius took in a deep breath, clearly irritated at having his thunder taken away. A few seconds later, however, his anticipation seemed to win out. "Her name is Edna," he replied haughtily. "She lives in a little flat in London. Possibly a squib, though I didn't want to ask for obvious reasons. Real sweetheart though—gave me and Pete a ton of lollies."

"You always _were _a master at sucking up."

"Please James, I can't help that I'm naturally lovable."

"So we hear."

"Right," Mrs. Potter cut in, "We're having dinner with your grandparents tonight, so we'd best be off. I promised Nan we'd actually be on time for once..." She shot Sirius an admonishing stare. "And don't eat too many of those before dinner, Sirius. You'll spoil your appetite."

"Impossible," said Sirius and James at the same time.

Mrs. Potter ignored them, instead turning her attention to the much more subdued Lily. "It was lovely to meet you, dear. I hope you'll come round and see us sometime."

"Yes, you too, thank you." Lily smiled politely and exchanged a nod with Mr. Potter. As far as first impressions went, she supposed it had been more or less passable. Or maybe she'd come off as boring... had she? Suddenly, she felt a bit uneasy.

"James?"

The rest of the Potter clan had begun moving along, and Mrs. Potter was staring back at her son with raised eyebrows.

"One second," he called back. Deftly, he moved so that he and Lily were partially concealed behind a thick pillar, and then stared down at her with earnest eyes. "I want to see you these holidays," he said, almost timidly. "Can I owl you?"

Lily pretended to think for a moment. "Well, considering owls drive my sister _completely_ round the bend..." She smirked, "... Of course you can." Not a second after the words left her mouth, a portly woman hurried past at too close a proximity, elbowing her and sending her stumbling into James' chest. "Sorry," Lily mumbled, making to withdraw herself, but he closed a hand on her wrist, keeping her there. Her cheeks felt hot and flushed as she glanced up at him.

James smiled a small grin. His face, too, was a bit rosy-looking. "Happy Christmas, Lily," he whispered, and then leaned down to place a lingering kiss on her lips. Lily soaked it in—the clean smell of his cloak, the heat of his hand where it was closed around her exposed wrist, the sensation of his cold nose against her cheek. When he drew back, she could only watch dazedly as he gave her one last smile and then jogged off to join his family. She peeked out from behind the garland-wrapped pillar and watched as Sirius said something to James, who shoved his shoulder roughly in response as they headed out into the snowy night. Slowly, smiling a little, she raised a hand to touch the ghost of the kiss where it remained on her lips.

"Happy Christmas, James."

* * *

Isabelle's bedroom was pinker than she remembered. The walls glared down at her with an intensity that made her feel strangely irritated. Sitting stiffly on her neatly-made bed, she allowed her gaze to travel to the window, where cheerful yellow curtains blazed so powerfully that she was forced to squeeze her eyes closed. There were so many _colours_; it was giving her a headache.

"Belle?"

At the sound of her pet name, Isabelle's eyes sprung open. Her mother stood silhouetted against the dark hallway, blonde hair hanging in a long braid down her side. Her angular jaw was pinched in poorly disguised concern—an expression which added years to her otherwise youthful face.

"Hmm?" Isabelle replied, blinking.

"Would you like a bit of dinner? Dad's brought up some shepherd's pie from the restaurant."

"Oh, no, that's alright, I'm not hungry," Isabelle said, picking at a loose strand on her bedspread.

Adina Willetton's frown lines deepened, and she took a few steps into her daughter's bedroom. "Well then how about we go for a walk downtown? It's a lovely night... And Harrod's has that new Christmas light display. We could do some window shopping and grab a hot chocolate. "

Isabelle stilled her hand at her mother's hopeful tone. She dropped the fraying thread, guilt welling in her chest. "No thanks, Mum," she said. "I'm really tired. I think I'll just have an early night."

Her mother nodded, but her lips were still drawn. After a moment of worried silence, she sighed. "Are you sure everything's alright? You've barely said two words since I picked you up."

"I'm fine," Isabelle said, perhaps a little sharply. "Just... really, really tired. Could we maybe talk in the morning?"

There was another small silence here, and her mother's face creased minutely, registering hurt. "Of course." Bending down, she placed a quick kiss on her daughter's cheek. "Sweet dreams, Belly-Button."

For whatever reason, the use of her childhood nickname made Isabelle want to cry. "Night, Mummy," she whispered. And then, listening as her footsteps faded down the hallway, she felt something within her sink. She hadn't seen her parents in months, and yet there she was, pushing her mother away in favour of solitude. Vaguely, she wondered why she didn't seem to have the energy to do anything anymore, and then fell down onto her side, curling up on top of the neatly-made covers.

In this position, a feeling of something that might have been dread began to sweep over her, and she searched her mind its origin. It was a fear of tomorrow, she realized—of waking up and facing her parents' questions about school. About things that would inevitably lead to Remus.

She tried to envision telling her parents that her boyfriend was a werewolf. It was almost laughable, she thought, lips twitching.

Almost.

The twitching turned to trembling, and she burst into silent tears.

The problem, Isabelle had come to realize, was not simply that she was upset. It was that she didn't quite know _why _she was upset. At the beginning, it had been the shock. Remus Lupin was a werewolf. A creature of the night. A contagious, diseased thing that seemed a myth—an object of textbooks and legend. And yet it wasn't even that, for she knew Remus Lupin, and he was a sweet, gentle boy who transcended all of these preconceived notions by a longshot.

Still crying hard, she slid down off her bed and pressed her forehead flat against the side of her mattress, kneeling on the carpet. "Listen," she croaked, and then took in a quiet gasp of air. "I _know_ you're up there, and I need you to listen."

"For once," she whispered, "I get something that I want, and it's perfect. For _once."_ Frustration and anger leaked out of every syllable. "_Why _did you have to take that away from me?"

There would be no future with Remus—she knew that much. He would be lucky to get a job... shunned from society. Werewolves seldom married. And children... well, that was completely out of the question.

Squinting her eyes closed, Isabelle brought a hand down against the mattress edge where her head was still resting. She was angry at everyone. Angry at some higher cosmic force for inflicting this curse on such an undeserving victim; angry at Remus for letting her fall for him when he knew there was no chance of a future; angry at herself for getting so attached; angry at her walls for being so god damn _pink..._

She cried for a good, long while, and then climbed back onto her bed, where she lay fully clothed with the light still on, letting her tears dry up. Her gaze was hollow, trained absently on the specs of dust that were clinging to her headboard.

Some indefinable amount of time passed in this manner, and then there was a knock against the open door. It was crisp and loud against the backdrop of silence, and Isabelle jolted slightly.

"Welcome home, sweet." Her father's head of cropped curly hair appeared through the doorway. He was still wearing his apron, and Isabelle wondered if he had closed the restaurant early in order to spend time with her. The thought sent a sliver of guilt piercing through her skin. "How about a bit of telly before bed? Catch your old man up on all your school stories?"

Late night television was something of a father-daughter tradition in the Willetton household. It provided a chance for her father to unwind and put his feet up after a long day overseeing operations at _The Rowan Tree_, the family restaurant that made up the lower storey of their apartment. The casual setting of mediocre television was a great place to exchange stories about the day while simultaneously poking fun at the odd sorts of shows that tended to crop up at night.

That evening, however, the thought of the flashing TV screen merely added to Isabelle's already throbbing headache. "Sorry Dad, but I'm not really up to it tonight. You go ahead."

He dipped his head, as though he had half been expecting this response. "Alright, we'll talk in the morning then. Sleep well, eh?"

Wishing that were at all possible, Isabelle smiled bitterly.

* * *

"Lily! You'd better not be eating my new muesli."

As her sister walked past the doorway, Lily glanced at the box in her hand, raised her eyebrows, and casually slid it back into the pantry. The cereal, she imagined, was part of the extreme slim-down mission Petunia was undertaking in order to fit into a size zero wedding dress in June.

Oh yes, her sister was getting married. Apparently, she and her three-hundred-pound fiancé, Vernon, had made the announcement yesterday right before her parents had gone to pick her up from the platform. Convenient timing, really. They had managed to exclude Lily from major family news while simultaneously causing Rose and Thomas Evans to arrive at King's Cross a good half hour late to pick up their youngest daughter.

Lily was absolutely certain that this had been her sister's evil plan all along.

As if that hadn't been bad enough, Lily had come home to the surprise of an occupied guest room and the prospect of living with the entire Dursley troupe until the holiday season was over. Apparently, Mr. and Mrs. Ennis and Maud Dursley had come to spend yuletide with the Evanses in order to increase the bond between their families over wedding arrangements and turkey dinner. Even Marge, Vernon's hulk of a sister, was sleeping on an airbed in Petunia's bedroom.

In short, it was going to be the Christmas from Hell.

Lily didn't know what stories her sister had been feeding her fiancé's family about her, but she did know that Mr. Dursley had given her a distasteful stare the moment she had come in the door last night and had refused to say a single word to her since. Mrs. Dursley, on the other hand, spoke condescendingly to her in a manner that suggested she had some sort of learning disability, while Marge simply seemed to enjoy imposing her brutish strength at every opportunity; Lily had already run into her in the hallway several times, and each incident brought some new element of terror. Vernon was the only Dursley who knew of Lily's identity as a witch—not that it made much of a difference. If anything, he treated her the worst of all. He was always shielding Petunia from her, as though it was his duty to protect her from Lily's evil ways.

On the tiny sliver that was the bright side, it was Christmas Eve morning and the house smelled of gingerbread and chocolate pudding. Mrs. Evans was already busy in the kitchen preparing for that night's feast. Flour, butter, cranberries, vegetables, and all manner of cookie decorations were sprawled across the counter while pots bubbled away on all four burners of the stove. Rose Evans, her dark mahogany hair pulled into a frantic knot on top of her head, hurried about, opening and closing cupboards, chopping vegetables and generally taking multitasking to a whole new level.

Lily, who had just come down from her room, narrowly dodged a sack of potatoes as her mother flew past. Pulling the corn flakes from the pantry, she proceeded to grab some milk and escape to the other side of the counter. "Need a hand, Mum?" she queried as she sat down on a tinsel-twined barstool and opened the cereal box.

"Oh no, Lily, you enjoy your time off. I'll be fine."

Watching as she attempted to stir something on the stove while simultaneously chopping up a carrot, Lily silently vowed to lend a hand as soon as she was done with her breakfast. "Where is everyone?" she asked in the meantime.

"Tuney and Vernon are watching the news in the sitting room, and I think Maud and Ennis are still asleep."

"And Dad?"

"Last minute supplies at Tesco. Tuney wanted fat-free stuffing and some vinaigrette-something-or-other."

Lily wrinkled her nose. "They're going to look like Laurel and Hardy at the altar," she mumbled.

"Now that's not nice," her mother scolded. A moment later, however, she pursed her lips. "It is rather ridiculous though, isn't it? I feel like she should be trying to gain a bit of weight as it is."

"Exactly," Lily said, spooning some cereal into her mouth, "then they could match."

Rose Evans simply shook her head, though she may have been fighting back a smile.

Lily finished up her breakfast and then slid around the other side of the counter to help her harebrained mother out, and an hour later, the pair of them had fallen into a comfortable and efficient system. Lily was rolling out sugar cookie dough on the cutting board while Rose prepared a salad beside her, the bulk of the work behind them. Lily's father had come in at some stage and turned on some Christmas carols, which floated along joyously in the background as they chatted offhandedly about school and life in general. With Vernon, Petunia and Marge still shut away in the TV room, Lily was almost beginning to feel festive.

Then, at around eleven o'clock, the doorbell rang. Lily, whose hands were covered in cookie dough, made to wash them off, but her mother was already heading out of the kitchen. Content to simply carry on with her task, she cleaned her hands anyway and checked the batch of sugar cookies that was currently in the oven. She was just adding another five minutes to the timer when something strange happened.

"Lily!" her mother called. Her voice had a funny edge to it. "There are some boys here to see you..."

Lily froze. _Boys...?_ Her mind flicked through the limited, if not altogether non-existent, possibilities of who could be paying her a visit at home. In a daze, she exited the kitchen and rolled down the sleeves of her shirt self-consciously.

What she saw at the front door almost made her eyes fall out of her head.

"'Lo, Lily." Sirius greeted her with a grin. He was leaning casually against the doorframe, wearing a leather jacket. James stood beside him, sporting a muggle coat and scarf, hands shoved into his pockets as he grinned at her sheepishly.

Reeling in surprise, Lily rested a hand on the door knob and leaned against the flat plane of the front door for support. "What are you—_How _did you...?" She looked around as though searching for the source of some prank. When her eyes refocused, however, they were still there. James Potter and Sirius Black were nonchalantly standing on the doorstep of her entirely muggle suburban home.

Petunia, nosy as ever, had sidled out of the TV room at the commotion and was now regarding the visitors with bulging eyes. "_Who are they_?" Lily heard her whisper loudly to their mother.

"What on Earth are you doing here?" Lily finally demanded, very aware that her mother and Petunia were still lurking interestedly in the background.

"We were bored," Sirius said. "Figured we'd pay our favourite Head Girl a visit."

"You were bored. On Christmas Eve?" Lily regarded them sceptically.

James shrugged. "Wizengamot's voting on the new Muggle Rights bill today, so Dad's at work. And Mum's out shopping with my Nan. We had our big dinner last night."

"Hence the boredom," Sirius clarified. "Lovely house you've got here, by the way. Is that a light bulb?"

Lily glanced sideways at the wall-mounted lamp he was pointing at. "Er... yes." She raised a hand to her face. "Wait a second, so, you were bored... and you decided... to visit me?"

"Yes." Sirius nodded.

"On Christmas Eve."

"Yes."

"I hope that's alright," James added hurriedly. "We don't want to get in your way, so we can leave if..."

"Lily!" Behind her, her mother spoke in a too-loud sort of stage whisper. "Don't be rude, invite them in for heaven's sake!"

"_Mum!_" Lily hissed. She might have pointed out that having shown up unexpectedly on Christmas Eve was rude enough in itself, but instead, sighing in defeat, she turned back to the two boys on the stoop. "Would you like to come in?" she asked, her tone only mildly grudging.

Sirius wasted no time in crossing the threshold. "Cheers!"

James, behind him, was a little more cautious. He smiled apologetically at Lily, and she felt something pass through her body when she realized that James Potter was, well... in her house.

"Are these your friends from school?" Mrs. Evans queried, eyes flicking back and forth between the boys.

"Er, yes," Lily replied. "This is Sirius and... well... this is James." She grimaced a little as recognition spread across her mother's face. Oh, her mum had heard about James alright. Lily could recall many a frustrated rant in her younger teen years revolving around "Potter" and his "bloody stupid fat ego". However, she could also recall a conversation from just last night involving a confession concerning James' changed nature... and the fact that they were going out. Her mother hadn't stopped gushing at how "entirely romantic" the story was, and Lily was beginning to regret having told her. Especially now that he'd gone and shown up on her doorstep.

"I hope you don't mind us dropping in like this," James said, regarding Lily's mother with a perfectly gentlemanly expression of concern.

Quite the contrary, it seemed; her mother looked positively gleeful. "No, no, not at all—the more the merrier. Lovely to meet you boys, I'm Rose." She put her hands on either one of Petunia's shoulders. "And this is Petunia, Lily's sister."

"Hello," said James and Sirius politely, while Petunia offered a grunt and a failed half-smile in return.

"Tuney, why don't you go introduce the boys to Vernon and Marge? You could all play a board game or something—get to know one another."

From her withering expression, it was clear that Petunia would rather light her hair on fire. After several seconds, however, she mumbled, "Fine" and walked stiffly from the room.

As James and Sirius removed their coats, Mrs. Evans grabbed her youngest daughter's arm, beaming.

"Oh Lily, he's quite the catch, isn't he?" she whispered, regarding James with a mushy expression.

Lily was horrified. "Mum!"

"I'm just saying..." Rose rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

"This is so exciting," Sirius said once his coat was hung up, eyes wandering brightly around the entrance hall. "I've never been in a muggle house before." He pointed to the wall in fascination. "What's that?"

"A light switch."

"A what-now?"

"It turns on the lights, see?" Lily flicked the switch, plunging the room into a darker state, and then pushed it back the other way. Sirius' mind was apparently blown; he rushed over and tested it out several times, flicking the power on and off repeatedly.

"Amazing." He looked around, eager to find something else of interest. "What about those?"

"...Those? Those are my dad's work boots."

"Oh, right."

"Listen," Lily spoke in a lower tone now, urging the boys to pay attention, "My sister's fiancé and his family are here, and most of them don't know about... well... magic and things. So make sure you don't let anything slip, alright?" As they nodded in understanding, Lily had thought. "I may regret asking this, but how did you figure out where I lived?"

The boys exchanged a sly glance. "We have our sources," Sirius finally said.

Lily crossed her arms. "Right... for the sake of my sanity, I'll leave it at that."

Five minutes later, the three of them were sitting side-by-side on a couch in the television room, awkwardly making eye contact with Petunia, Marge and Vernon.

"So you're all from the... whatsit? Special school for the intellectually impaired or something-or-other?" Marge boomed.

_Ah, _Lily thought dully. That explained a lot.

"Beg your pardon?" Sirius asked blankly.

Through gritted teeth, Lily decided to remedy the situation. "They're mates from school, yes."

James and Sirius exchanged a glance and then looked at Lily with concern. She tried to convey the phrase '_just go with it' _with her eyes.

James seemed to catch the hint. "Actually... we go to the school next door. For juvenile delinquents." His tone was blasé to the point of monotone. "It's so nice to be released for the holidays, isn't it, Sirius?"

"Oh, yes, very."

Marge grunted in acknowledgement. "Your schools mingle a fair bit, do they?"

"Absolutely," James replied.

Sirius put an arm around Lily's shoulders, regarding her pitifully. "Someone needs to be around to mentor their tragically dim minds, innit?"

"Hmm." Marge said, raising her almost-monobrow in something that might have been appraisal. Actually, it was almost as though she was... checking Sirius out. Lily tried to cover the snort that rose within her at this revelation.

Meanwhile, Vernon was clenching Petunia's hand very hard, both of them wearing expressions of extreme discomfort. The former's left eyebrow was twitching spasmodically every couple of seconds.

"Christmas biccies, anyone?" Rose appeared in the doorway with a tray of frosted sugar cookies. "Be careful, they're fresh out of the oven."

"Cheers!" Sirius said gleefully, reaching out the moment the tray hit the coffee table.

"Thanks, Mrs. Evans," James said with a smile.

Lily helped herself, watching as her sister shifted uncomfortably, probably fighting the urge to break her new diet already. The sound of chewing filled the otherwise dead silent room.

Rose lingered for a moment, undoubtedly noting the awkward air. "Why don't you play that new game of Petunia's... What's it called? Twist-and-Twirl?"

Lily fought the urge to clap a hand to her forehead. "I think you mean Twister, Mum."

"That's the one. Petunia, be a doll and go fetch it, would you?" Rose ordered. There was a faint beep from the kitchen. "That'll be the next batch," she said, and then took off to rescue them from the oven. "Go on, you lot, do something fun!"

Utter silence was left once more in her wake.

After several seconds: "...So, are we playing?" Sirius finally asked Petunia. She jumped, looking slightly frightened at having been addressed directly by him, and glanced over to Vernon for support. He offered nothing but a stiff shrug.

"I suppose," she finally mumbled, rising to fetch the game from the adjacent room.

Once she returned, Lily helped her to push the coffee table aside and spread the mat out on the ground. James pulled the spinner from the box, looking at it perplexedly and proceeding to fish around for the instruction pamphlet.

"Right, so how does it work?" Sirius asked.

"You've never played Twister?" Apparently, Vernon had finally decided to speak. His tone was highly condescending.

James narrowed his eyes slightly. "We don't really play many games at the correctional facility, mate. Too busy trying not to shoot one another and all that."

Vernon leered, but did not reply, and Lily took it upon herself to run through the rules very briefly. "Who's going to be caller?" she asked.

"Bags!" Petunia exclaimed, grabbing the spinner right out of James' hands. "You all can go ahead."

Rolling her eyes, Lily obliged nonetheless and lined up along the edge of the mat with the others.

"Right foot blue," Petunia called, and the players reached their feet out to touch the circle.

"Well, this is easy," Sirius commented.

Petunia spun the wheel again. "Right hand yellow."

Bending over, the five of them reached for a vacant spot. It was then that Lily realized with dismay that not only were they playing with more players than they should have been, but that Vernon and Marge's bulk combined took up almost the entire mat. She cringed away from a colossal arm that might have belonged to either one of them as it thudded down beside her.

Despite all this, Sirius scoffed, "Really, this is supposed to be difficult?"

He spoke too soon; five minutes later, the mat was a convoluted mess of limbs. Lily was contorted into a strange sort of backbend, tensing her muscles to hold herself overtop of James, whose legs were in a painful-looking almost-split position. Vernon, who had been eliminated on the third call-out, was helping Petunia spin. And then there was Sirius, who had somehow become essentially squashed beneath Marge's flab. Face twisted in agony, he was leaning as far away from her sweaty backside as possible while attempting to maintain his contorted pose. Clearly, it was torture, and yet it seemed as though his competitive streak was compelling him to remain in the game.

If ever there were an ice-breaker to rule all ice-breakers, Lily decided as she removed her leg from its current position and shoved it against Sirius' back, this would be it. She had the strangest feeling that she might actually end up pregnant after the severity of the personal space invasion that was occurring.

"Right foot red!"

There was a strangled yelp from somewhere on the other side of the mat, and a crumpling of plastic followed by a muffled string of words. Lily turned her head with some difficulty to see Sirius wriggling frantically underneath Marge, who had just collapsed on top of him.

"MphI canph breathph! I canph brea—" As Marge rolled off of him, Sirius sat up with an enormous gasp, holding his throat. Eyes watering, he launched into a coughing fit of epic proportions.

It was too much. Lily's muscles gave out and she fell onto James, causing him to drop down to the mat. Laying against one another, they laughed until they cried at Sirius' expense.

"Never again," Sirius was muttering as he scooted backwards and eyed the mat with extreme repulsion. "Never again..."

Petunia and Vernon looked on with disgust at the combination that was Lily and James' snorting laughter mixed with Sirius' ongoing hacking coughs. They both seemed to be at a complete loss as to how to respond.

Meanwhile, Marge was bent over Sirius, hands on her boxy hips. "You alright?" she barked.

Sirius slid away from her. "Yeah, fine, thanks."

"Come on, up and at 'em," she said, reaching over and yanking him to his feet. She then proceeded to give him a lingering stare while he looked in every direction but hers. Lily and James, who were still sitting on the ground, glanced at each other, mouths twitching as they struggled with all their might not to laugh.

"Lily, where's your bathroom?" Sirius said abruptly.

"First door on the right," Lily choked out, and he wasted no time in hightailing around the corner.

As soon as he was out of the room, Marge lowered herself onto the sofa. "He's an absolute dish," she said, her tone brash. "He seeing anyone?"

"Marge," Vernon growled, "I don't want you getting involved with his type."

"Nonsense, Vernon. He may be criminally inclined, but all it takes is a firm woman to stomp it out of them." She pounded a fist into her hand.

"That isn't what I—"

"He's got a girl."

"Pardon?"

"I said, he's got a girl." James spoke up this time. Lily supposed he'd had enough of watching his mate suffer. "At school."

Marge stared at him expectantly, as though he was daft. "And?" she prompted loudly. "What's she like?"

"She's... She's Lily's friend, actually.

"Hmm. Mentally deranged as well, is she?"

James squinted his eyes and then shook his head in irritation. "No," was his curt reply. Carefully, quietly, he took hold of Lily's hand behind their backs.

Marge sniffed loudly, and by the time Sirius came back in, everyone had retreated once again into silence.

* * *

As it turned out, Sirius' supposed relationship status did very little to deter Marge's advances in the long run. He ended up making up a flimsy excuse and leaving the Evans household sometime in the afternoon after a hide-and-go-seek incident left him stranded in a linen closet with her for an entire eight minutes. Lily actually felt quite bad about the whole situation—as obnoxious as Sirius could be, no one deserved Marge Dursley. Lily didn't really know why, but she had always imagined that someday Vernon's sister would end up living alone with several bulldogs.

James, to Lily's surprise, accepted her mother's invitation to stay for dinner. He proved to be quite the charmer, regaling her parents with endless amusing stories over their turkey and potatoes, and doing a surprisingly good job of dodging questions that might raise suspicion from the Dursleys. Lily watched him with a strange feeling of pride in her chest, and—this was rather awful—she could not help but compare him with the mustached beetroot that was Vernon Dursley. James looked positively dashing alongside him. This thought made her ponder the irony of the whole thing—if someone had told her even a few months ago that James Potter would be eating Christmas Eve dinner at her house this year, she'd have referred them to the mental ward at Saint Mungo's without question. It was funny how things could change so radically in such a short amount of time.

Once everyone had stuffed themselves with pie and figgy pudding, Lily and James helped Mr. and Mrs. Evans with the dishes while Vernon and Marge settled in to watch the evening news with their parents and Petunia (the elder Evans sister had made to help with the tidying up, but wound up fleeing when she realized that James intended on pitching in too). Outside, snow was falling lightly over the blanket of white that already covered the lawn, and the gentle strains of _O Holy Night _poured out of the radio on the kitchen counter.

"Thanks again for dinner," James said as he took a plate from Lily and placed it in the dishwasher (a contraption which clearly baffled him a tad).

Mrs. Evans waved his comment away. "Not at all, dear. You're welcome to come round any time you like."

"Now James," Mr. Evans asked after stowing the remains of the turkey in the fridge. "Tell me, is Christmas Eve not a big celebration in your, er... world?"

"Oh, it is," James assured him. "We're just not really celebrating properly this year because there's a big parliament vote going on tonight, so my dad's away."

"Ah, what does your father do, if you don't mind me asking?"

James stood back as Lily shut the door of the dishwasher. "He works for the Ministry. Senior member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Mr. Evans looked endearingly bewildered as he attempted to keep up with the rapid string of vocabulary. "So that's sort of like... the police, then, is it?" he tried.

"Police?" James repeated.

Lily came to their mutual rescue. "Sort of, Dad, only I imagine James' father is in more of a... management sort of position."

"Really interesting stuff, all that," Mr. Evans replied, shaking his head slightly. "I still can't quite wrap my head around it..."

Lily's mother, who had just finished packing the desserts up, turned around suddenly. "I was thinking," she said, "how about you and James round up the others and go try out that ice maze down the street? Barb Hemming was saying her lot had a blast there the other day."

"Wait, Annie and Lou? Aren't they like... seven?" Lily asked sceptically.

"Well, yes, but I don't suppose it matters, does it? Heavens, I may drag your father over tomorrow if he'll let me."

"Sounds... intriguing," James said. "What is it, exactly?"

Rose clasped her hands together. "Sort of like a corn maze—but oh, I bet you'd not know about those either. It's a big labyrinth made out of ice."

"Cool." James nodded appraisingly. "Er... No pun intended."

Seeing his interest, Rose's mind seemed to be made up. "That's it, then. Lily, go ask Vernon if he'll drive you over."

"Mum! I'm not asking _Vernon_."

"Alright, _I'll _ask him then. Honestly, he's going to be your brother-in-law before you know it. You might start making an effort."

"Not likely," Lily grumbled.

Nonetheless, it wasn't long before she found herself squashed between Marge and James in the back of Vernon Dursley's Pontiac.

"No scuffing the leather," he warned as he put the key into the ignition. "Bloody cost a fortune."

In case it wasn't obvious, he was rather put out about the whole excursion.

Lily took the cover of darkness as an opportunity to mimic him silently, pulling a face at no one in particular as she mouthed an exaggerated repetition of his words. There was a snort from beside her, which James immediately disguised by faking a slight coughing fit.

Up front, Vernon and Petunia exchanged a _look._

Then, silently, they pulled out of the driveway and glided down the quiet street. Lily admired the way the snowflakes were catching in the halos of the streetlights and Christmas lights, glinting like specs of multicoloured dust might in the sun. This, she thought, was exactly how Christmas Eve night should look.

Several minutes later, the brief interlude of serenity was broken by Vernon. "So... Potter," he began, grimacing as though the name caused him physical discomfort and then adopting a goading look, "...what do you drive?"

James looked quite startled at having been spoken to. He raised an eyebrow. "Er... I don't."

"Hmph." Vernon made a face that suggested he'd expected this response. A superior smirk began to creep up beneath his mustache. "If you ask me, every bloke should be able to operate a car."

James' fists tightened a bit in his lap. "Well, I haven't really got any need for it, have I?" He caught Vernon's gaze through the rear-view mirror, and Lily felt the car swerve ever so slightly. Vernon's irrational fear of anything magical made her wonder if perhaps he'd had a severely traumatic experience with card tricks as a child or something.

Marge, of course, was oblivious. "From the city, are you?" she deduced.

"Nah." James turned to face her, and his response was surprisingly casual. "Got my own personal chauffeur. Bobby. Great bloke."

This time, Lily coughed into her shoulder. Petunia fidgeted uncomfortably at the sound, but otherwise there was no response. As the conversation fizzled out, Lily contented herself to look out the window again, and was surprised to see that they were already pulling into their destination.

A plastic sign reading _The Ice Palace - open all holiday season _marked the entryway to a moderately deserted parking lot. A couple of bundled up toddlers trailed along happily behind their parents as they made their way toward their car, and Lily watched them with apprehension as Vernon pulled the vehicle to a halt. She felt a bit at ease when a teenage couple emerged a few seconds later.

"Huh, pretty wicked," James commented as he opened his door. He was staring up at the towering silhouette of the maze. The whole thing was lit by bright lights, causing its icy walls to almost shimmer in the night. Lily was inclined to agree with his assessment.

Petunia paid the man at the ticket booth with the money their mother had provided, and they headed toward the arched entryway as a group. The air was chilly and flecked with particles of snow around them. Marge, having elbowed her way to the front, was leading the way at a brisk and manly pace while Vernon and Petunia trailed behind, hand in hand. Lily thought she heard them whispering, and began to feel very irritated and self-conscious.

The whispers dried up, however, the moment they entered the towering structure. As a result, the silence seemed to increase tenfold as they were compressed and enclosed by the icy corridor. For a few minutes, they plodded along like five peas in an awkward and very uncomfortable pod.

Finally, at the first fork, Lily grabbed James' hand and pulled him to the right. "We're going this way," she told Petunia. "Race you to the finish?"

Her sister nodded, looking similarly relieved. "Alright," she agreed. Then, a millisecond gap, a frown, and: "Actually, no thanks. You'll probably... cheat."

Bristling, Lily sent her a long look. If it weren't for Marge's presence, she might have had something to say on the issue, but as it were, she would have to content herself with silence. "Whatever," she replied. "See you later, then."

James waited until they were a fair distance down the deserted path before speaking. "So, I've been dying to ask all day..." he said, stopping in his tracks. "..._School for the mentally impaired_?" The incredulity in his eyes was almost anger. "Why does everyone seem to be under the impression that you're... dim-witted or something?"

Lily winced. "That would be my sister's doing," she replied and then, sighing, glanced sideways at him. "We don't really get along... obviously. She likes to make up stupid stories about me while I'm away."

"Wow." James shook his head. "I had no idea you and she were so..."

"Barbaric?" Lily smiled humourlessly. "We weren't always. We actually used to be close, but things have never really be the same since I started at Hogwarts." She grimaced. "Er, I feel like I should be apologizing for today. I understand if you never want to see me again now that you've met my family."

"What? No, I honestly really enjoyed it. And your parents are nice."

Lily looked at him with cynical disbelief, but he stuck staunchly to his statement as they came to the next fork. "Which way?" she let him decide.

"Trust me," James made a grim face, "we'll be stuck in here until New Years if you listen to me. Directionally-challenged would be an extreme overestimation of my navigation skills."

"Brilliant, and now you've let me go wandering through a maze with you in the dead of night."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Grinning, he cleared his throat. "Let's go right."

"Left it is, then."

"Ha h—Oh, you were serious."

Lily smirked as she rounded the corner. "Speaking of Sirius..." She hesitated for a moment. "What you said earlier... does he like Eva then? Or was that completely made up to save him from Marge?"

James' eyes widened slightly. "Ah, bit of both, I guess. I wasn't really thinking about what I was saying." He was silent for a moment. "...He does, though. Never really talks about it, but we all know. He always has."

Lily digested this for a moment as they carried on through the twisting passage. "God, you wouldn't know it, would you? The way they treat one another?"

James smiled wryly. "Yeah, well... look at us."

"Touché."

They wandered through the maze for at least half an hour, not fully bothering to look for an escape. Mostly, they meandered whichever way they pleased, using the solitude to talk about things they hadn't been able to throughout the day. Not once did they run into Petunia, Vernon, or Marge. As her toes began to gradually lose sensation, however, Lily started to become more eager to find a way out. She was beginning to believe, with dread, that James' New Years prediction might come to fruition, when finally, something appeared in front of them that wasn't another chunk of ice.

"Joy to the world," Lily breathed, grabbing James' hand and taking off toward the exit at a run, as though it might disappear at any moment. The two of them stumbled out into the starry night with wide grins. "I wonder if the others made it—"

"Lily!" Her sister was stalking furiously toward her, arms wrapped tightly around her body. Her long neck was jutting out at an angry angle. "What took you so long? We've been waiting for hours!"

"We haven't even _been_ here an hour, Petunia."

"Well, I'm sorry, it's easy to lose track of time when you're _freezing to death_."

"Oh, shut—"

"Lily!" James' exclamation was more of a sharp intake of breath than an actual word. He nudged her abruptly, staring with an open mouth at something in the sky.

"Wh—" Her tongue stilled as her hand flew upwards, clapping against her lips. Something green reflected in her pupils as she stared up at the dark heavens, horrified...

...because there in the far distance, nestled amidst the churning grey clouds, was something that burned a bright emerald constellation in the stormy sky.

Fractured teeth extended around a glowing serpent, the skull grinned.

* * *

**A/N:** (I think it's proof of how crazy my semester has been that I'm considering final exams to be my 'break' time. So instead of studying like mad, I have been writing fanfiction. Sometimes my brilliance just astounds me...)

I ended up chopping the chapter in half because it was getting seriously long and I thought it might be nice to just post SOMETHING, rather than making you all wait even longer than my usual god-awful long for an update. Actually, this was something of a crazy feat for me—I wrote the entire thing in just three days of frantic typing. I guess that's what happens when my writing urges get bottled up inside for so long. Usually, WITS chapters are created in little pieces here and there over like... a month. Not this one, though! Possibly because I was having an absolute blast writing it.

Anyway, I actually have even more written, but I figured this was a logical place to split it up. Trust me, the next part is where things really get... interesting. Remember, we've still got the clichéd Christmas Party to look forward to... yippee! (for real, though, I think it's going to be good). So, look out for Part Two, coming soon to a fanfiction website near you! And just to add to the rhyming factor, please leave a review! ;)

I would write more but I have to actually start studying now... When will I learn?

Thanks, as always, for reading!

~RainbowCrystal

PS: **XxChronicleXx **made an awesome Isabelle and Remus banner. Check it out on my profile!


	16. Christmas Lights, Part Two

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: Christmas Lights (Part Two)**

"Mum!" A scrap of parchment clutched in her fist, Evangeline ran across the upper landing's smooth hardwood floor and leaped down the stairs, taking them two at a time. "Mum!" she called again, the shout reverberating through the high-ceilinged hallway. "Mu—oof!"

Garlands went flying through the air as Evangeline collided with her mother, sending them both stumbling backwards and causing Selene to lose her grip on her armful of Christmas decorations.

"Eva!" her mother exclaimed. "What in the world...?"

There was an short period of silence before: "I was just looking for you," Evangeline said lamely. The two of them rose to their feet, and Eva bent down sheepishly to retrieve her mother's array of Christmas decorations. "Sorry," she offered.

Selene shook her head. "Always going everywhere at a thousand kilometres an hour." A satirical smile played on her lips. "I used to think you'd grow out of that one day."

"Er... doubtful." Evangeline loaded her arms up with garlands and followed her mother into the living room.

"What was it you wanted?" Selene asked as she set her share of things down on the grand-looking mantel above the fireplace.

"Lily just owled," Evangeline replied, dumping her armful unceremoniously. "She wants to know if James can come with her tomorrow when she comes to help set up."

Selene's eyebrows shot up. "Well... of course. Can't say no to extra help." There was a slight pause, and then she continued, "I know I'm being a nosy old thing, but are they seeing one another now?"

"Er, yes, actually. Would you believe it?" Evangeline thought back to the last time Lily had been over, when her mother had walked in on the two of them making James Potter and Sirius Black voodoo dolls from instructions in one of Lily's muggle magazines.

"Actually, I can." Selene smiled faintly. There was silence for a while as Evangeline helped her to drape a few strands of tinsel around the fireplace. "You know," her mother said, and there was an edge to her voice that Eva couldn't quite place, "your dad and I used to absolutely _detest _one another."

Evangeline tripped over a loose garland. Shooting back up, she sent her mother a look of complete and utter astonishment. "Wait... really?"

"Mmm hmm. He was a complete prat in school—we had some legendary duels in the Great Hall. I couldn't stand him."

"How have you never told me this before?"

"I don't know. I suppose I barely think of it nowadays; it seems sort of laughable."

Evangeline was digesting this news when the crackling fire suddenly turned a brilliant shade of green. Sparks flew, and she and her mother leaped away by reflex.

"Selene." Lionel's face appeared in the flames, lined with urgency. "There's been an incident. Muggle Rights bill was passed twenty minutes ago and someone's spotted the Dark Mark over London. We're investigating. Don't know when I'll be home."

"_Merlin_," Selene breathed, looking exceedingly anxious. "Be safe, Lionel."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you, too."

His face disappeared as quickly as it had come. Evangeline's mother stared at the fire for a moment, eyes glistening with tears that enhanced the flickering reflection of the fire on their glassy surfaces.

"Mum..." Evangeline looked at her worriedly.

"It's alright," Selene said, brushing away her tears with the back of her hand. "He'll be fine."

* * *

Evangeline, Ethan and their mother kept a silent vigil by the fireplace for an uncountable number of hours that night. Despite the late hour and the softness of the armchairs, no one could sleep, and Christmas Eve faded into Christmas morning in a haze of anxious waiting and writhing flames. The halo of orange and gold against black burned into Evangeline's retinas as she squinted dully into its depths.

Finally, at exactly 2:35 in the morning, the fire blazed emerald green and Lionel stepped out from the hearth.

"Thank _Merlin_," Selene breathed, rushing to her husband. Her held her close for a moment, silently.

"It was a false alarm," he spoke into her hair in an exhausted voice. "The mark was hanging right over Diagon Alley... they spent all night searching, but they couldn't find a thing and no one seemed to have any idea of what had happened." He pulled away. "Chappell's convinced it was a protest against the bill being passed. I reckon I agree."

There was a long, drawn out silence. The fire crackled harshly at their backs.

"What now, then?" Ethan finally asked in a sleep-deprived croak.

Lionel turned to face his son. "I don't know, mate." He sighed. "I don't know."

* * *

When Evangeline awoke the following morning, the night's events seemed like a hazy dream. Outside of her bedroom window, snowflakes were falling and Christmas lights were shining, casting a colourful glow onto the snowy rooftop ledge. For a moment, she simply stared out at the yard below and admired how the snow was drifting toward the quiet, deserted street in moderately heavy sheets. Then, she let her eyes drift over to Sirius' bedroom window, and felt her heart sink at the way the dark curtains were drawn, tight and unforgiving, across the pane of glass. Outside, the house was bare of any decoration, with greying shutters and a blanket of snow piled onto the colourless roof. Bitterly, she remembered the days when the Black home had been festooned with glowing bunches of holly and little stars that sparkled and glinted in the sun; when she and Sirius had spent Christmas day comparing presents and making snowmen in the backyard, and she'd teased him about the ugly sweaters his Auntie Druella used to make him.

It all seemed a lifetime ago.

"Eva?" Ethan stepped into her room, still in his pyjamas. "Want to open presents now?"

Immediately, she turned her back on the swarm of memories. "Yeah, come on then."

The two of them hurried down the twisted staircase together, as they had so many times before, and yet there was something indescribably different about this Christmas morning. There was a strange feeling of melancholy floating on the air, and for the first time in their lives, their parents were awake before them. Selene and Lionel were in the kitchen making coffee when their pyjama-clad children arrived on the lower level. "Happy Christmas!" Selene greeted them. She was wearing a plum-coloured silk robe and holding a steaming mug between her hands.

"Happy Christmas, Mum." Eva gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Time for that later. To the presents!" Ethan cut in impatiently.

"Ethan," Evangeline shook her head with a falsely tragic expression, "I think you need to learn the true meaning of Chr—"

"Be quiet, you," he said. "Race you to the tree!"

It took Evangeline a millisecond to respond, and by the time she kicked into motion, he had already jetted off. "Oi, not fair! You got a head start!"

In the kitchen, Selene and Lionel exchanged a look of amusement.

"_Mum! Dad! Hurry up!"_ Ethan shouted exasperatedly from the adjoining room.

Rolling his eyes, Lionel took his wife's hand, and the two of them set off at a very leisurely pace to join their children by the fire.

* * *

Unfortunately, this picture of familial bliss turned out to be rather short-lived. Once the presents were opened and the reality of what had to be accomplished before the guests started arriving began to set in, Selene's good mood evaporated into the ether. Evangeline watched in dismay as her mother morphed into a high-strung slave driver before her eyes, assigning duty after duty and becoming increasingly frazzled as the day wore on.

"Lionel!" The dark-haired witch scolded her husband later that morning, staring up at where he was using his wand to affix tinsel to the chandelier. "You were supposed to be done that half an hour ago—I made a schedule!"

"Sorry, love, I just—"

But Selene was distracted, honing in on her son with laser eyes. "_Ethan_!"

With a fearful expression, he looked up. "...Yes?"

"Two ribbons. The party favours each get _two _ribbons."

"Sorry, er, I'll just fix that up..."

"Never mind now—we don't have time," she snapped. "Just finish up and then you can help your dad move the furniture in the sitting room." She patted her pockets and then began to look around frenetically. "Where's my wand?"

Lionel made a motion as though to respond, and then seemed to second-guess himself out of apprehension. "In your hand, love," he finally said.

Muttering darkly under her breath, Selene retreated to the front hall.

"Slave labour, that's what we are," Evangeline grumbled.

"Ah, go easy on her, eh?" Lionel stowed his wand in his pocket and stood back to inspect his handiwork. "It'll all be worth it when tonight rolls around."

"Yeah, if we've not all died of exhaustion by then." She raised a cynical eyebrow and continued using her wand to remove the dust from the mantel. "Really, is anyone going to care if we have dust in our chimney?"

Lionel regarded her seriously. "Well, I dunno about you but _I _certainly always make sure to inspect the fireplace the moment I walk into a party."

"_Eva!_" Selene's voice carried faintly from somewhere else in the house.

Evangeline lowered her wand forebodingly. "Yeah?" she called.

"_Come here for a moment._"

Her mother was in the front hall, and her arms were full of various boxes and tissue-paper-stuffed bags when Evangeline arrived. "I need you to wrap some things for tonight," she told her briskly. "These are for grandmother..." She shoved a stack of what looked like robe boxes into her arms, "... and this one's for Auntie Lavinia..." barely pausing, she added a heavy bag to the arm load, "... Uncle Ezra..."

Within a minute, Evangeline stumbling awkwardly down the hallway, attempting with very little success to see over the ridiculously tall pile of gifts and wrapping supplies that was in her arms. Faint strains of Christmas carols floated through the wall beside her. This was likely the result of their house elves, Mitsy and Keely, being in a particularly festive mood as they prepared the evening's feast, and Evangeline wished for a moment that she could borrow some of their enthusiasm. Admittedly though, the seasonal melody did lift her spirits a little; she found herself humming along with them to _God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs _as she made her way up the staircase.

The minute she arrived in her bedroom, the load was dumped carelessly onto her bed and she stepped back to regard it with her hands on her hips. It was as she stood there, feeling dejected about the quantity of work awaiting her, that a fat ball of tawny feathers caught her eye. Pudge was sitting on her bedside table and attempting to shove a pair of earrings down his throat.

"Oh for the love of... _Why can't you just eat dead rodents like a normal bird?_"

She collected him onto her arm, marvelling at how such a small animal could possibly weigh so much, and unlatched the window, shooing him out to get some exercise. Then, she turned back to face the mountain of depression on her bed.

She had only been wrapping for about ten minutes and was in the process of untangling a piece of tape from her hair when her door creaked open, and something unbelievable happened.

Sirius Black walked into her bedroom.

"Hey," he said, raising a hand in a casual greeting.

Evangeline blinked and pulled the tape out of her ponytail.

"Need a hand?"

She blinked again.

"... Are you alright?"

"_What are you doing here_?"

Sirius shrugged. "Your mum sent me up."

Evangeline flailed soundlessly. "But what are you doing _here_?"

He shrugged again, shoulders rising upwards while his hands remained stuck in his pockets. "James was coming. Figured it'd be more fun than sitting at home by myself and making awkward conversation with the house elves."

At this, Evangeline laughed darkly. "If you came for fun, you'll be sorely disappointed, I promise." She scooted sideways swept some wrapping paper away roughly to make a space for him beside her on the carpet. "Where _are_ James and Lily?"

"Your mum has them cleaning the windows or something." Sirius took a few steps forward, and Evangeline felt her heart rise a little in her chest as she noticed the way his pale eyes were skimming over her room, taking in every little detail with poorly disguised intensity. He dropped slowly to the carpet, leaning his back up against her bedside table and eyeing the pile of paper and tape in front of him. "I'm rubbish at wrapping presents, just so you know."

"So am I. Mum'll be so pleased." Despite her lofty sarcasm, Evangeline felt strangely tense, as though the very atmosphere in the room had suddenly become heady and thick. There was something about the image of Sirius lounging on the carpet beside her that sent a feeling rather like a thrum of electricity through her veins. For a moment, he was almost a kid again, eight years old with bright eyes and a roguish grin, plotting some shenanigan on her bedroom floor. But when she looked again, she saw the reality—the shoulders broadened by age, the longer, shaggier hair, and the eyes clouded by hardships. "Er... here." Pulse rushing as she attempted to quash the strange feeling in her chest, Evangeline tossed him a shopping bag and a roll of wrapping paper.

The action seemed to catch Sirius by surprise. He caught the bag reflexively, but the roll of paper crashed into the bedside table behind him and ricocheted noisily off the edge. He twisted around to retrieve it, and Evangeline found herself idly staring at the strip of skin that had become exposed between his shirt and the waistband of his jeans. She noted vaguely that he was taking a lot longer than he should have to pick it up, and that was when she heard a faint rustling noise. When Sirius finally turned around, he had an odd expression on his face, and he was holding a piece of paper.

Evangeline felt her breath leave her.

_Not a piece of paper..._

It was the photograph. Celestial Lake. With bated breath, Evangeline raised her eyes to find Sirius'. He was squinting very intensely at the picture, eyes moving from side to side as he took it in. His lips appeared to be twitching ever so slightly as his jaw clenched.

"You kept this," he said, very quietly.

Evangeline's heart stuttered. "That wasn't supposed to... I forgot... Just... pretend that wasn't there..." As she fought for some semblance of words, she rose up on her knees to take the photograph from him. Instead of complying, however, Sirius merely looked up and met her eyes. There was a question in the grey colour of his irises. Slowly, he rose to his knees, and the action propelled him closer to Evangeline; in fact, there was barely a breath of space between them. He was looking at her face with the same gaze he had used to examine the photograph; questioning, hesitant, and somehow painfully familiar. Evangeline stayed glued to the spot, breath frozen in her throat as she stared into his eyes, inventorying every fleck of blue amidst the grey, every dark eyelash framing the edges. His warm breath brushed her lips as his eyes roamed her face, and the heat from the proximity of his body radiated toward her chest. It was a look of such intimacy, such intensity, that a million things swirled; questions, answers, memories. Sirius swallowed, and his Adam's apple bobbed visibly in his throat. Then, his hands moved in a very gradual motion to her arms, where they curled around her biceps with a heavy warmth. With shaky hands, he pulled her closer still to his chest, and Evangeline reached up to ghost her fingers over the sides of his face. Not once did their gazes disconnect. It was the strangest sensation—as though years and years had been leading up to this moment, and yet now that it was here, everything was still happening in slow motion.

Sirius drew in an audible breath, and his eyes flicked down almost imperceptibly to her lips before reconnecting with hers. Then, in a motion that was almost painfully drawn out, he closed the miniscule gap between them and brushed his lips against hers in something that was scarcely a kiss. Evangeline's eyelids fluttered closed at the fleeting contact, and she felt her skin burn, instinctively demanding more. Sirius hovered in close proximity, his hands tightening a little around her arms as he turned his searching gaze on her once more. "...I thought you didn't..." His voice was barely there; a gravelly, breathless sound in the back of his throat.

Evangeline felt her own fingers press down on his neck, thumbs tracing the line of his jaw. "I did," she whispered, voice breaking. "I... think I always have."

This time, it was definitely a kiss.

Sirius' hands reached up to rest on either side of her face as he pressed their lips together and seized in a loud breath. Just like that, what little of the outside world was left to penetrate Evangeline's mind slipped away. There was just Sirius, and the smell of boy shampoo, and the feeling of his lips sliding over hers as their breath mingled together. They kissed one another with the weight of everything that had happened over the years, lips dragging slowly but heavily as they held one another close and snow fell outside the window.

Finally, they parted for a moment, and Sirius pressed their foreheads together. Eyes opened slowly, and their breath tickled each other's skin. It was a silence so full of meaning that there was nothing left to say; everything was conveyed in their eyes. With a heavy-lidded gaze, Sirius kissed her again, long and drawn-out. Evangeline felt her hands slide from his face down and along his back, his skin hot and thrumming with a pulse beneath the fabric of his shirt. They kissed again and again, until their lips felt raw and hyper-sensitive, bodies pressed together as they kneeled beside the forgotten pile of presents.

"Could I get one of you to go out and clear the snow off the walkw—_oh_!"

Selene's hand flew to her mouth as she stumbled upon the scene and froze in her tracks.

It was like the jolting feeling of waking up suddenly from a dream. Evangeline and Sirius sprung apart, heads whipping around to take in Selene's rigid form in the doorway, and amusingly, Evangeline's reflex hand-to-mouth response was almost identical to her mother's. The silence that followed would go down in history as being the most awkward moment in the lives of all three.

Sirius twitched and jumped to his feet. "The walkway?" he babbled, "I'll do it. No problem." And he was out of the room in a flash, but not without shooting Evangeline one last, wide-eyed look over his shoulder; it was a look that said, _What the hell just happened?_

After a silence that seemed to last a century, Selene raised her eyebrows at her daughter, and Evangeline did what any sane person in her position would do; she grabbed a pillow, squashed it against her face, and collapsed headfirst onto her bed.

The words she spoke were so quiet and muffled by the bundle of cotton that they barely reached her own ears. "_I need Lily_."

* * *

"You _kissed_?" Lily practically yelled.

"Shhhh!" Evangeline fiercely urged her to lower her voice. She was pacing back and forth across the carpet while Lily sat cross-legged on her now-devoid-of-presents bed.

Outside, the sky was darkening and snowflakes were falling lightly over Grimmauld Place. The chores were finally done, and they had been unchained from the slave ship to get themselves dressed and ready before the guests started arriving. Evangeline had spent the afternoon dazedly failing at her assigned duties, avoiding Sirius, and trying to seek Lily out to no avail. Now, hearing her friend repeat the words out loud was like a jab to her stomach; she was reminded that the unspeakable event had actually happened.

"So?" Lily prompted eagerly.

"So...? Nothing... happened, really. He ran away."

"Ran away?" Lily raised an eyebrow. "What, like he just casually sprinted out of the room?"

Evangeline winced. "...Mum walked in."

"Ah..."

For a few seconds, there was a heavy silence. Then, Lily made a face. "Do you realize how weird this is? Me and James, Isa and Remus, and now you and Siri—"

"Don't say that!" Evangeline's eyes glinted.

"What?"

"Me and..." She trailed off. "That is not... there is no... just... don't."

Lily uncrossed her legs and leaned forward on the squishy mattress, resting her elbows on her knees. "The evidence to the contrary is _very _compelling."

"Shut up," Evangeline moaned. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure there's no more 'Isa and Remus' either, so your theory's a bit of a dud."

At this, both of them fell silent. There was a gaping hole where Isabelle should have been, and announcing its presence seemed to make it double in size. Although neither Lily or Evangeline had been completely surprised when she'd turned down the invitation to come early that day, they were still lamenting her reclusive behaviour and generally distant nature.

"We'd better actually start getting ready," Lily finally said, swinging her legs around the side of the bed, "or we're still going to look like house elves when the guests get here. Oh, hang on, first..." She bent to rummage around in the overnight bag that she had brought and extracted a flat, neatly-wrapped parcel. "Present time!"

"Ooh, goody!" Eva exclaimed, momentarily distracted from her gloom. With eager hands, she pulled the package away from Lily, and was about to tear the wrapping paper off when she paused with a sheepish expression on her face. "Er, hold on, I got you something too."

"How kind of you to remember."

Evangeline stuck her tongue out and pulled a little envelope out of a drawer. "Merry Christmas," she said as she handed it over.

Lily lifted the flap and pulled out a square piece of parchment with embossed gold writing on its rough surface. _**The Grindstones, January 5, 1976, 8:00pm, The Leaky Cauldron basement. VIP.**_

"... Eva..." Lily attempted to control her breathing. "Is this real? Because if this is some kind of cruel joke, I will strangle you."

"Please," Evangeline scoffed, though she looked quite pleased with herself. "Of course it's real. VIP and everything. I got one for all three of us."

"_How?_" Lily adored The Grindstones, but so did three-quarters of the wizarding world; the concert had been sold out for months already.

"One of Dad's mates at work."

Lily stared back down at the ticket in disbelief. Finally, she looked up. "So... if they're VIP... does that mean we get to meet Ryder Remington?"

"I'd expect so," Evangeline replied airily. "Considering you already have a boyfriend, though, I reckon I'll be the one marrying him now."

Lily was far too joyful to take offense to this. "I love you!" she exclaimed, and tackled her friend with a huge, grateful hug. As she pulled away, however, she wrinkled her nose. "You should have opened mine first," she grumbled. "Nothing can live up to bloody Grindstones tickets."

"Not even the new Nimbus model and a lifetime supply of cauldron cakes?"

"...Well I didn't get you that, either."

Her response was drowned out by the loud sound of wrapping paper being massacred.

"Lily," Evangeline gasped as the shreds gave way to a leather-bound book. Her fingers skimmed over the photograph on the cover—three young girls sitting at a sun-stained table outside of Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour. Picture-Lily had bangs that almost covered her eyes, while Isabelle, still a tiny little thing at the age of thirteen, was swamped by a tumbling mess of curls that reached all the way to her lower back. Eva, with her tight ponytail and wide smile, was without a doubt the one who had changed the least since the day the photo had been taken.

Smiling, she flipped open the cover and was met with an artsy, double-page spread of more photographs and decorative words detailing highlights of their friendship. "This is so sweet."

Lily smiled a little. "There's something else as well. In the back."

With poorly disguised excitement, Evangeline shuffled to the end of the scrapbook and came upon a little golden door.

"You have to tap it three times with your wand," Lily supplied.

Eva obeyed and the tiny square sprung open, revealing an impossible compartment that seemed to extend past the thin back cover. Inside, there was a glinting packet of something.

"...No calorie biscuits?" Evangeline coughed as she pulled out the crinkled bag. "Is this some sort of not-so-subtle hint?"

Lily snorted. "Don't be stupid, they're for Pudge," she said. "It's an untouchable compartment—I enchanted it so that only you can open it. I just wanted to put something in and I heard Petunia going on about how vile those were so I figured she wouldn't miss them if I took her extra pack."

"It's brilliant," Evangeline said, closing the delicate doors and returning to the front of the book to pore over more photographs.

She had barely glanced at the first picture when a frantic-sounding voice, muffled a little by the door, intruded upon their serenity.

"Are you girls almost ready?" Selene called. "The guests will be getting here soon and we still have about a million things to do."

"Er... Just about!" Evangeline shouted back.

For a second, she and Lily allowed themselves to exchange a sheepish look. Then, without a word, they bounded to their feet and sprung into a frenzy of action.

* * *

"Okay," James stared at Sirius with piercing eyes, "I wasn't going to say anything, but as I'm starting to feel like I might actually drown in your sweat... What the hell is going on?"

The two of them were in an upstairs guest room, changing into their formal attire for the party. Sirius, who had jumped slightly at his mate's voice, seemed to be debating whether or not to answer the question as he fiddled with his collar. He sighed. "... I did something stupid."

"Well, considering how often that happens, you're going to have to be a little more specific."

James' humour was lost on Sirius, who simply turned around and stared morosely at him. "I kissed Hansen."

"... _What_?"

"Please. Don't make me say it again."

James raised a hand to rub his slack jaw. "And... you're still alive? No wounds? No hidden curse injuries?" He made a show of checking his mate's form over. "Well that's a good sign at least, yeah?"

Sirius turned a stony gaze on him. "She kissed me back."

At this, James stilled. "_Huh_, really." He contemplated for a moment, brow creasing. "Well then... what's the problem?"

"The problem?" Sirius looked incredulous. "It's... it's _Evangeline_." As though this explained everything.

"...Yeah, still not getting it."

The boy did not seem to be in a frame of mind that facilitated a logical response. "I dunno what came over me," he groaned, running both hands through his dark hair. "Bloody hell."

James wore a calculating expression. "You fancy her, though." It was not a question; more of a hesitant statement of fact.

Something in Sirius' jaw clenched. "You know the answer to that already."

"Well if she kissed you back, don't you think there may be the _slightest _chance that she fancies you as well?"

Sirius breathed in deeply, and then: "Bloody hell," he said again. He shook his head as a dog might and then turned a pleading, lost-looking expression on his mate. "What do I do?"

"Er... talking to her might be a good place to start?"

"Are you crazy? I can't _talk _to her."

With a firm hand, James grasped his shoulder. "Well, it's either that or stay up here all night." Then, he turned on his heel and pulled the door open.

"Where are you going?" Sirius demanded. "You can't leave me to deal with this alone!"

James rolled his eyes. "Just go and talk to her, mate, seriously. Have a good conversation. Be a proper adult. I believe in you." He shook his head. "I'm going to find Lily."

As it turned out, he didn't have to look far. The two of them practically collided in the hallway a few seconds after he left the room.

"Wow, hey. I was just looking for you," Lily said, sounding a little breathless.

James failed to reply as he stared at the girl in front of him. She was wearing a pretty beaded dress that fell to her knees in a sleek curtain of emerald silk. Her face was open and natural, all long eyelashes and rosy cheeks, and her hair was soft and wavy around her shoulders.

"You look... you look lovely," he stammered out.

Lily smiled in a manner that was almost timid. "You look quite dashing yourself."

"I'm going to kiss you now," was his dazed reply.

He leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to her lips right there in the hallway, and Lily melted into him. It was still a little new and strange, the idea that they could kiss one another whenever they wanted.

"Mmm—Did you hear about...?"

James pulled back as she spoke against his lips. He looked vaguely amused. "The _incident_? Yes. Sirius is having a mental breakdown as we speak."

"Eva's locked herself in her room."

"This isn't good."

"No," Lily agreed. "What do we do?"

James considered. He pushed up his sleeves a little along his forearms. "I don't think we _can _do anything. They need to sort this out for themselves."

"Yeah." A long sigh. "You're right, unfortunately."

There was a slight crashing noise from down the hallway, followed by a faint but very audible _"Fuck"._

"... I'd better go and investigate that," James said after a beat of silence. "See you downstairs?"

"Of course," Lily replied. "And James, I still have to give you your Christmas present."

He grinned. "Same here."

Lily looked a little uneasy. "You didn't get me knickers again, did you?"

"I'll never live that down, will I? It was Sirius' idea, I _swear_."

"I'm sure... And the love potion in fifth year; that was Sirius, too?"

"One hundred percent Padfoot. I was not involved in any way."

"Right," she said, unconvinced. "Well, good luck with... whatever's going on in there."

James let out a breath. "Yeah... thanks." He adopted a solemn expression and squared his shoulders. Then, very hesitantly, he pushed the door open.

* * *

By seven o'clock, snow was falling merrily over the outskirts of London's West End, and Grimmauld Place was dotted with oil lamp halos under the shadowy sky. One home, invisible to the eyes of muggles, was alight with festivity and colour. Robe-wearing guests apparated before its grand wreathed door and were admitted into a yellow glow of cheer, where hearty strains of Christmas music poured through adjoining rooms and vivid robes swept over mahogany floorboards. Chatter rose into the air, punctured by jovial bursts of laughter and the occasional loud crackle from the fireplace as guests of all ages moved throughout the space.

"Moony!"

The door had just swung shut, admitting three figures and an icy gust of snowflakes, and James abandoned his slice of fudge on a napkin to greet the newcomers. Remus, who was in the process of removing his snow-flecked cloak, stood on the threshold alongside a tall man with deep-set eyes and a small, wispy-looking woman in lavender.

"Mr. Lupin, Mrs. Lupin," James added in greeting, nodding toward the couple in turn.

"Nice hair," was Remus' greeting to his mate. "Very proper looking. Is that an actual part?"

James scraped a hand through it absently. "Incredible, right?"

"It's a Christmas miracle."

"How've you been?"

Remus shrugged. "Not bad. Where's everyone else?"

At this moment, the door creaked open behind him, and he stepped aside as a small, cloaked figure crossed the threshold. A hood fell to reveal a tangle of blonde curls fastened with a delicate clip shaped like a butterfly.

It was Isabelle, both boys realized too late.

The eye contact lasted only a second, but it was enough to allow a mutual acknowledgement. Isabelle busied herself with removing her cloak, not bothering to exchange greetings with either James or Remus, and the two boys moved a few paces to the right. James didn't miss the way Remus' eyes slid to the side a few times, or the way those eyes followed the silk ribbon tied around the girl's waist as she slipped away into the crowd.

Suddenly desperate for a distraction, James clapped a hand down onto his friend's shoulder. "So you're never going to guess what Sirius did," he said in a low voice, steering him further into the house and in the general direction of his abandoned piece of fudge.

"Oh dear," Remus said, clearly attempting to recover from whatever had come over him and grateful for the change of subject. "Should I be concerned?"

"Probably." James brought them to a halt by the refreshment table and noted that his dessert had disappeared. Unconcerned, he put some cheese on a cracker and shoved the whole thing into his mouth. Remus looked over the offerings for a moment before grabbing a few grapes and plucking them off of their stems one by one. "He and Hansen had a... moment. And now he's acting like an twat about it, basically."

Remus popped a grape in his mouth and nodded sagely. "Ah. Figured it might've been something along those lines."

"Want to go up and visit him? He's still barricaded in one of the guest rooms."

Remus shrugged. "Sure."

The two of them brushed past the crowds of guests congregated in the sitting room and escaped into the darkened corridor. In the stairwell, they noted light footsteps creaking overhead, and both boys did a slight double take when Lily appeared on the top landing.

"Remus!" Lily said. When the boys arrived at the top of the staircase, she pulled him into an embrace. "How was your Christmas?"

"Quiet," Remus replied, smiling faintly. "But good. How was yours?"

"Bit of a madhouse. The usual."

"Any progress on your side of things?" James asked, flicking his gaze to the closed door that belonged to Evangeline.

Lily made a sound of exasperation and crossed her arms. "Well, she's still refusing to come out," she said. "I can tell she's starting to crack, though. It won't be too long before the temptation of food gets to her, trust me."

"I reckon Sirius'll be the same," James replied. "We all know he can barely go an hour without eating."

The three of them stood there for a few seconds in their triangular huddle.

"This whole thing is really stupid," Remus finally commented.

Just as the words left his mouth, the door at the end of the hallway creaked open and a furtive-looking Sirius emerged from the darkness. As soon as he noticed he had company, he froze.

"Er... hi," he said, still in a statue-like pose with his hand on the door handle. And then, retreating back into the darkened room: "Bye."

Lily, Remus and James exchanged expressions of utter exasperation and then lunged for the closing door in perfect synchronization. James' foot managed to catch the base of it before it could latch shut.

"What the hell?" the messy-haired Marauder said, straining to keep the door open. Sirius was surprisingly strong; the gap was steadily closing, as though he was pressing his entire body up against it on the other side. Noting this, Remus jumped to James' aid.

"Come on, Sirius," Lily said. "Why don't you come downstairs with us?"

The boy's reply was faint from behind the almost-closed door. "I'll be alright in here, thanks."

Lily made a face, thinking back to Evangeline's similarly ridiculous protests. "God, they're like the same person."

"Yes, the same_ two-year-old child_," Remus growled. He and James increased their pressure on the door, and it was clear that Sirius' determination was not a match for the pair of them. The door began to inch back the other way.

Then, a whole bunch of things happened at once. Sirius' strength gave out and the door flung open very suddenly, causing James and Remus to stumble forward. They reached out and grabbed the boy's arms, dragging him out of the bedroom amidst struggles and protests.

Meanwhile, Lily had turned her head and frozen there as a creak on the staircase gave away another presence. Evangeline stood on the top of the landing, caught in the midst of what she had perhaps been hoping would be a quick escape to the land of food below. James and Remus dropped their grips on Sirius' arms when they saw here there.

Everyone stared, but what was going on between the eyes of Sirius and Evangeline was something else altogether. There was fear. And perhaps even a tinge of awe in Sirius' case, as he got a look at her sparkling blue dress and upswept hair. That night, Lily thought, Eva looked perhaps the loveliest she had ever seen her look (though her desperate expression of shock and horror was throwing the whole thing off a little).

It was awkward—_so_ awkward—and Lily found herself wishing that she could be anywhere else. Being in the same space as Sirius and Evangeline right now was like suffocating in a sea of tension and weirdness and things left unsaid. There was no room for outsiders in this thick bubble.

Fortunately, it wasn't too long before the bubble popped. The stairs creaked, and Selene Hansen came to a halt on the fifth from the top, hand poised on the banister. She was wearing robes in an unusual shade of blue—dark and soft—and her hair was twisted up elegantly beneath an understated hat.

"There you all are," she said. "Come on," she motioned to Eva, but the command was clearly meant for all of them, "your dad's taking photos downstairs. I thought it might be nice to get one of all the classmates."

In her current state, all Evangeline could manage was a faint noise at the back of her throat and a blank stare.

"Eva?" Selene gave her an odd look.

"That sounds perfect," Lily jumped in, grabbing her friend's arm and coaxing her forward. Behind her, she heard faint scuffing sounds as Sirius attempted to ground himself on the floor with the flats of his feet. James and Remus pushed him along for several paces, the rubber of his shoes making a squeaking noise against the floorboards, and then he finally gave in and began to walk normally.

Lily breathed out, the air flow heavy and fast. Everything about this was absolutely pathetic.

Downstairs, the sitting room was alight with the bright glow of lights and candles, and people crowded before the Hansens' towering Christmas tree in bunches, smiling for the camera. Lionel, stationed behind the extravagant-looking piece of magical machinery, counted off on his fingers and then gave a thumbs up sign as a blinding flash of light shot through the space.

"Ah, there they are," he said jovially when the five of them rounded the corner. "Right, seventh-years, come on. In front of the tree."

Lily dragged Evangeline all the way to the far left side and then deposited her there. James, Sirius and Remus weren't too far behind, and a little crowd began to form.

"... Hi." The greeting was so quiet that Lily almost didn't hear it. She looked behind her to see Isabelle, an understated presence in dusty pink, smiling faintly.

Lily returned the gesture. "Hey, when did you get here?"

"Dad dropped me off about ten minutes ago."

"Here, you go in front, you're shorter," Lily said in response, moving to create a gap for her to pass through.

"Is that everyone?" Lionel was calling out as he scanned the room. There was a moderately large cluster of Hogwarts students before the twinkling tree. The Pettigrews had apparently finally arrived, and Peter was engaging in a thumb war with James on the right side of the composition, looking a little more round-cheeked than the last time Lily had seen him. Anna Taylor was there, as well as Darren Jones of Gryffindor, whose father worked with Evangeline's at the ministry. There were eyebrow raises all around when Frank Longbottom and Alice Perry slid into the mix as a pair, hands clasped together as they brushed past Amos Diggory and his current girlfriend, a sweet-faced Ravenclaw girl named Sophie.

Lionel seemed satisfied that there were no stragglers. "Alright everybody, on my count. One, two, three..."

_Click_.

A puff of emerald smoke shot out from the top of the camera as the moment was imprinted on film.

"Beautiful, thanks you lot. Who's next?"

As Evangeline's father sought out his next victims, the students dispersed. Or rather, they all managed to migrate as a group to the nearest unoccupied table.

"Hansen, are you alright?" Anna asked as she sat down along one side of the long, candle-strewn furnishing. Red poinsetta petals littered the white tablecloth. "You look like your broomstick just got put in a blender."

Eva blinked. "What's a blender?"

"Never mind."

The girls had fallen into place around one end of the table in a fashion reminiscent of the Florean Fortescue photo, while Anna and the Marauders occupied the left hand side. Others filled in the gaps, and a light hum of conversation fell over the group as everyone settled in.

"So," Frank was saying, his voice low, "Scary about last night, isn't it?"

There were hisses of accord all around.

"Dad didn't get in until about five in the morning," James said. "Course, by then, Christmas was already ruined."

"Same. Bloody dark wizards, always ruining Christmas," said Darren Jones, eliciting a bit of laughter.

Lily felt something like a chill sweep through her body as the memory resurfaced. The skull, glowing in the night sky, the uncertainty, the fear, and especially the proximity of the whole scenario to home. It had been truly awful. "They still haven't figured out who did it, have they?"

"No." James shook his head. "I heard Dad talking to the aurors this morning. Whoever it was long gone by the time the Ministry got there. Best guess is it was some sort of scare tactic."

As this train of conversation began to fizzle out, Lily noted that despite the number of people at the table, they were not, on the whole, very talkative. Isabelle was spinning her bracelet around her wrist, staring at the fine, interlaced strands of gold with fiercely contemplative eyes. Beside her, Evangeline fidgeted uncomfortably, eyes drifting toward the refreshment table every few seconds and then violently changing course when they inevitably connected with Sirius. The handsome Marauder, who was directly in her line of vision, remained similarly silent. He and Remus were sitting stoically side by side, offering absolutely nothing to the conversation.

The remainder of the guests, however, seemed to be having a lovely time. Music swept over the candlelit space and couples twirled around on the dance floor. When a catchy, popular number started up, Alice squealed, "Ooh, I love this one!" and dragged Frank into the sea of dancers to make the most of it. They were joined almost immediately by Amos and his date.

Anna sighed bitterly. "Where's a ruddy boyfriend when you need one?" Her eyes scanned the table. "You want to dance, Pettigrew?"

Peter looked surprised, and then pleased. He offered his arm gallantly.

"Oh, what the hell. Lily?" James lifted his shoulders slightly in a questioning gesture.

Lily was unimpressed. "_Wow_, that was an invitation if I've ever heard one."

James amended his statement. He dropped to one knee dramatically in front of her and grasped her hand. "Lily Evans, may I have this dance?"

"You're not getting married, you dolt," Remus scoffed.

Lily simply smiled and rolled her eyes.

As soon as they disappeared, the temperature at the table seemed to drop to sub-zero limits. Isabelle, Remus, Evangeline and Sirius, trapped in the wooden grips of their seats, shared a few seconds of highly charged silence. Then, four set of chair legs scraped along the ground in perfect synchronization.

"Er... I have to go find... someone," Sirius mumbled.

"...Getting food..."

"Bathroom."

"See you."

And they took off in four completely opposite directions, like the cardinal points on a compass.

* * *

Evangeline wound up, as she had a tendency to in such circumstances, at the buffet. She wandered the length of the table aimlessly, dropping one of everything onto a plate while her mind floated away to a place that was cloudy and remote.

"Eva?" It was Isabelle. She was looking at her rather oddly. "I think the punch is supposed to go into a cup..."

Evangeline glanced down to see her plate, stacked high with biscuits, sliced fruit, and mincemeat pies, leaking a red liquid all over the floor. "I know..." she replied faintly. The crimson drops were still falling. _Drip. Drip. Drip. _She blinked. "...Oh! Shit."

Isabelle reached out and confiscated the soaking platter, looking around momentarily and then dropping everything into a nearby rubbish bin. She wiped her hands on a napkin. "Anything you want to talk about? You're acting quite odd."

"Odd?"

"Yes, and don't lean on that statue, it's about to fall over."

Evangeline withdrew her hand from the hollow gold angel figurine. "...I wasn't."

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong, or...?"

The brunette sighed. "Oh, Merlin." She glanced around furtively. "Fine. But somewhere else. Somewhere... quiet."

* * *

"You realize you're going to have to talk to her at some point, right?" Remus followed his friend's gaze to the back of a deep blue dress that shimmered in the dim light as it disappeared around a corner. He made a note to ignore the flash of pink alongside.

Sirius, who was leaning against a pillar, turned his head. "No, see actually, that's the thing: I don't."

"Your logic baffles me."

"It's very simp—Wait a tick, how do you even know about any of this?" He backtracked, somewhat defensively.

"James. Obviously. And anyway, you're not exactly being subtle."

"Yeah, well..." The dark-haired Marauder seemed to falter in coming up with a response. "Bloody hell. Why does she have to be so sodding confusing?"

"I thought you were the one who kissed her."

* * *

"But I kissed him back," Evangeline lamented to Isabelle. "I kissed him back and now everything's completely turned to bollocks."

"It hasn't, though," Isabelle insisted. "You're overreacting."

"Overreacting?" Evangeline looked crazed. "Isa, this is _Sirius Black _we're talking about. The boy who made my life a living hell for years on end. I can't just kiss him and expect to live happily ever after."

"He's changed though. You said so yourself."

Evangeline sighed. "...Maybe," she relented. "But what if things don't work out and everything just ends up worse than it was before?"

* * *

"Well," reasoned Remus, "you'll never know if you don't at least try."

"But that's just it." The frustration in Sirius' tone was potent. "I don't know _how_, Moony. I don't know how to be normal around her."

"So what, then, you're just going to ignore her for the rest of the year?"

* * *

"That sounds like a brilliant plan."

"Eva!"

"But really, though..."

Isabelle sighed. "Well, I've given you my two sickles. I can't force you to do anything, obviously, but... at least think about it?"

"Yeah." Evangeline looked her straight in the eye for what Isabelle realized was the first time that night. "...Thanks, Isa."

* * *

"Anytime," Remus said, smiling faintly. There was a short silence. "Shall we go find some food?"

"Moony, mate, you read my mind."

* * *

The thing about putting off a conversation, Evangeline decided about an hour later, as she stared absently at the distorted reflection in her fork, was that it was almost always impossible. Sooner or later, things had a way of coming to a head and working themselves out, for better or for worse. It was inevitable.

Or, at least, that was what she told herself when she felt her body rise from her chair and head in the direction of the dark-haired figure she had been side-eying for the past several minutes.

Sirius was leaning against the wall, and he turned his head. Shock, pure and undiluted, was exposed in his eyes.

"...Hi," said Evangeline.

"Hi."

"Can we talk?"

Looking strangely out of his element, Sirius managed a nod. "Stairwell?"

"Sure."

And so they moved to the quiet, darkened space. Music and laughter became muted, as though someone had thrown a thick blanket over the source of all the noise, and the two of them sat down. Side by side, perched on the same step, they exhaled.

Then, Sirius shook his head. "You actually came to talk to me."

Evangeline raised her eyebrows. "Apparently."

"Why?"

She frowned. "Because... Well, I dunno, really. I just sort of... did."

"You always surprise me," was Sirius' faint reply. He was looking straight ahead, into the darkness.

"I try."

Silence.

"I fancy you, you know."

It was Sirius who said it, and the words hung in the air like drops of humidity before a storm.

"...That was just an attempt to one-up me on the surprise front, wasn't it?"

"'Course," he replied easily. "But it's also true."

Evangeline was quiet for a moment. She seemed to be toying with something in her head. "Well, although it's not going to have nearly the same dramatic impact... I fancy you, too."

_What now_?

The two words were everywhere, swirling around. In the end, it was Evangeline who voiced them.

"So, what is this?" she asked. "What are we doing? What are... _we_?"

"Bully if I know."

"Well, that makes two of us, then."

Sirius turned to face her; there was barely a breath between their noses. "Well, for now..." He examined her freckles. "...There's a dance floor out there that's tragically lacking my devastating moves."

"Heaven forbid."

"Want to go remedy that?"

"Well, I guess for the sake of humanity."

The emerged back into the life and colour of the party, and Evangeline made a face. "Hang on. Did we just talk things out in a mature, adult way?"

Sirius looked vaguely horrified. "I feel as though a cake-eating contest may be in order later on to cancel that out."

"Brilliant. You're on." She took his hand. The song was soft, simple, and unassuming. In a similar combination of adjectives, Sirius put his hands on her waist.

And then, in a way that no one expected, the world stopped.

The song died a sharp, sudden death. There were crashing noises, screams, a lot of confusion. Candles fell off of tables, losing their light and leaving behind coils of smoke as dishes and silverware crashed to the floor.

Despite all this, or perhaps because of it, it was a moment before anyone actually saw _them_. Masked figures, cloaked in black. They swept into the room, wands drawn, and moved with purpose between the terrified swarms of guests.

It was incredible just how many things could happen in a matter of seconds.

Amidst disapparitions, frantic running, and hysterical name-calling, James Potter found himself standing alone in the middle of the dance floor. All around him, there was chaos, and yet he could only stand stock still while his mind repeated the same three phrases over and over. _Find my parents_, he thought. _Find the Marauders._ It was the final instruction, however, that he found himself instinctually acting upon, darting away into the crowd with it echoing through his mind. _Find Lily_.

Not too far away, someone crumpled to the ground. Nobody noticed except for a girl in a pink dress, who only had to glance at the sandy hair and the half-closed golden eyes before something burst in her chest. With the remains of this explosion pouring through her veins, Isabelle froze for a split second. Then, she raced forward, a scream of "REMUS!" burning in her ears.

"DAD!" Evangeline yanked her hands away from Sirius and stumbled blindly forward. Bodies were everywhere, stumbling into her, and she shoved them aside carelessly. Her father's face was frozen, shocked, as a net of blue light enshrouded his body. He slumped, limp and non-responsive. _Stunned_, Evangeline told herself, _Only stunned. _But she didn't have long to ponder this, for by the time she finally found herself close enough, the attacker had grabbed her father's arm and they disappeared with a loud _pop_. "_No_!" She could not even hear her own voice over the surrounding din. Suddenly, she was lost. A jet of magic shot straight past her face, slamming into a picture frame on the wall and blasting it to shards of glass and wood.

She found herself, for whatever reason, slamming her side against the front door and bursting out into the snowy night, as though she might pursue them. Ice crystals stung her feet through the thin straps of her heels, and the cold air sliced her throat. As she slowed to a halt, everything went pitch black. She spun around, disoriented. The Christmas lights strung along the house had been extinguished, and the dwelling was eerie and black-hearted in the night. On the edge of the roof, one sphere still shone with a faint red glow onto the snowy eaves trough. Evangeline watched it for a minute, letting the red bulb burn into her vision.

And then at last, with a feeble flicker, it, too, succumbed to death.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm not quite sure how I feel about this one. There was so much stuff going on and I worked on it for so long that I just feel kind of weird about it on the whole. Let me know if you liked it, anyway.

Oh! I also have a mildly funny story about this chapter.

Once upon a random Saturday, I was casually typing away at my desk. Suddenly, I realized that I was hungry, and so I went to get a snack. I got back, and was in the midst of shoving a cookie into my mouth when my eyes caught some words on the screen and I read "I **kissed** Hansen" as "I **killed** Hansen" and was immediately like "WHAT did I just write?" Let's review:

_He sighed. "... I did something stupid."_

_"Well, considering how often that happens, you're going to have to be a little more specific."_

_James' humour was lost on Sirius, who simply turned around and stared morosely at him. "I killed Hansen."_

HAHAHA. No wonder he was so morose.

(Ahem. It was funny to me, anyway.)

So, now that I'm done mocking myself, I just have to inform you that your reviews are bloody fantastic. Some of the ones I've been getting just make me get all emotional and awe-struck, and I really, really appreciate everyone who takes the time to make my day a little brighter. I have decided to get back into replying properly to them. Big bundles of love to a recent anonymous reviewer, **MaraudersLover 3**. No need to apologize for the "awfully long essay of a review". It made my day.

-Liz


	17. Godric's Hollow

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Godric's Hollow**

Snow fell. Trees were still in the stagnant air. And under the blanket of darkness, Grimmauld Place was silent.

"Moony!" A rough shout mingled with the settling dust in the air, and Sirius Black fell to his knees beside the unconscious Marauder. With the pops of mass disapparition ringing in his ears, he reached frantically for his wand, filled with a numb kind of panic. "En—Enervate!"

"I already tried," came a quiet voice, and Sirius registered Isabelle's presence. She was sitting on Remus' other side, pale and resigned. Her fingers were curled around his cold hand. "It doesn't work."

Sirius ignored her. "_Enervate_," he tried again. "Come _on_. _Enervate!"_

"Stop it!" Isabelle's hand fell down onto his arm, forcing him to lower his wand. Her eyes were brimming with tears. "Just... stop. He needs proper medical attention."

Sirius didn't know whether to be angry at the girl's reaction or simply confused. Rather than deciding, he gritted his teeth and demanded: "What's wrong with him?"

Isabelle sniffed. "I don't know. I saw him fall and... and I reckon he was hit with something."

Sirius looked down at Remus' pale face, and felt the numbness strike again. Then, he glanced back up at the teary blue-green eyes across from him. "So that's how it is, is it?" he asked her in a low tone. "You care _now_. Now that he's hurt."

"That's not—"

"It is, though." His eyes were hard. "He hasn't even been worth two seconds of your time since you... since you found out. _Enervate_!"

Isabelle started crying. For a moment, Sirius felt as though he might have taken it too far, but then he looked at his mate again, remembered the turmoil of the past month, and felt his resolve rebuild. "Careful," he said bitterly. "He might be dangerous if he wakes up. You know, vicious monster and all that. Better clear out now while you still have a chance."

Tears were rolling silently down Isabelle's cheeks. "I know," she whispered. "I _know,_ all right? I'm horrible." Her breath hitched. "But you don't know everything, Sirius. Believe it or not."

A slight silence hung between them as chaos continued to penetrate the rest of the room. Then, there was a strangled gasp, and Remus' parents swooped down upon the scene. "John!" Mrs. Lupin was saying shrilly, "Oh my goodness, John, he's here, I've found him... Do something, please... _Remus..._" She fell to her son's side and began stroking his hair back from his face with trembling hands. Isabelle slid away.

"He's breathing," Sirius supplied, though his voice, too, was shaky. "Can't bring him round, though. I dunno what's wrong..."

Isabelle heard no more. Upon wobbly legs, she pulled herself up and slunk back into the corner of the room where, with wide eyes, she watched as the small woman in lavender leaned over her son's body, panic invading her every movement.

Sirius glanced around briefly—perhaps noting Isabelle's sudden absence—but she knew he would not find her. Enshrouded, as she was, by darkness and shadow, she was completely invisible.

* * *

James didn't know how he found Lily. One moment, he was blindly stumbling through the crowded room, shoving things aside and choking on the thin layer of smoke that had risen in the wake of the attack, and the next, she was collapsing into his outstretched arms, breathing heavily.

"James," Lily said, arms tightening around his waist.

He held her fiercely against his chest, and for a moment, the smell of strawberries overpowered the acrid stench that was all around them. "Are you alright?"

"I think so." She coughed and drew back. "You're hurt," she said, raising a hand instinctively to his forehead.

James, too, reached up, and felt the dampness of blood dripping down his cheek. "Ah. Bugger. Is it bad?"

"I don't think so. It looks like you might have gotten hit by some of the debris. _Mendio_." She swiped her wand across the injury and immediately he could feel it closing up.

"Thanks," James said. And then, rubbing the newly-mended wound absently: "Listen, you haven't... Have you seen my mum and dad?" There was a thick quality to his voice that he was clearly trying to downplay.

Lily shook her head mutely. Her eyes swept the shattered remains of the room. Picture frames and lamps had fallen and now lay in shards across the hardwood floor, and furniture was charred and curse-blackened. All around, people were searching for loved ones, or huddled in groups on the floor, waiting for their groups to be reunited and refusing to disapparate until everyone was accounted for. "I'll help you look," she croaked.

The two of them picked their way across the floor of the main room, dodging people frantically pushing past in the other direction, and keeping their eyes peeled.

"I can't find my brother," a young witch was crying to anyone who passed by. "Charlie. Blonde hair. Please, have you seen him?"

"No, I'm sorry," Lily said quietly, meeting her blue-eyed gaze.

When they exited the main room and found themselves in the dark corridor, they came upon a sight that was at once comforting and horrible. Tiny sobs punctured the air, breathy and raw. A woman sat on the staircase, clutching something around her neck.

"...Mum?" James called.

When the only response was a gasping sob, he broke into a jog and hurried to her side. "Mum! What is it?"

"Something's happened," she said, "I can't... I can't find your father."

Lily could see the scene by the faint strip of moonlight pouring in the front door window. Mrs. Potter had her fingers wrapped around the necklace that she was wearing. Her knuckles were bone-white.

"So we'll keep looking, then," James said. "Where've you checked? Lily and I have just been through the main—"

"No," Mrs. Potter shook her head fiercely. "Something's wrong, I can feel it. Something's... Something's happened. We have to go home."

James swallowed visibly. "Stop it, Mum," he said, "Don't be stupid. The ministry probably needed him or something—"

It was as though his words pre-empted what happened next. A sudden, white-blue light swept across the house, lighting it with an eerie, wintry glow. Everything seemed to be coated in ice, and it might as well have been for how the very air seemed to hold its breath.

_"If you are still in this home", _a deep, soft voice penetrated every room with a strange, single-frequency sort of pitch. "_You are wanted for witness questioning. Disapparition has been deemed unsafe for the time being. A ban has been placed over the area. Do not attempt to leave._

_"A portkey has been arranged to take you to a safehouse. Further information will be provided once you arrive."_

The light died. Dead silence hung in the aftermath.

* * *

Several hundred kilometers away, inside a little house in Godric's Hollow, a grandfather clock chimed a deep, hollow rhythm.

"Any minute now," Edgar Bones said, glancing at the Roman numerals on the clock's face. He was a young wizard, around twenty years old, with wavy chestnut hair and a chin that all but faded into a thin neck.

"How many are we to expect?" His mother asked, shuffling into the room.

"Kingsley didn't say."

"Doesn't say much, that one, does he?"

Edgar turned his head sharply. "Kingsley's a top bloke, Mum," he said. "Quiet, maybe, but he knows what he's doing."

"Alright, well, he makes me a bit nervous is all." She fidgeted with her hands for several seconds, eyes trained on the still-chiming grandfather clock. "I've made up all the guest beds. Do you suppose I should conjure more, or...?"

"Again," Edgar said with great patience, "I do not _know_. They haven't told me anymore than they've told you."

"Well there's no need to get snippy, Eddie."

Something shifted in the atmosphere, only for a split second's warning, and then there was a loud noise. A small crowd of people landed in the kitchen. One, a boy, was in his father's arms, eyes closed and skin pale. The woman with them was sobbing.

"Please," she said, hurrying toward the Bones. "Please, I don't know what's wrong..."

Mrs. Bones sprung into action. "Here, bring him this way." She gestured quickly forward, leading the way into the darkened hall. "Are there more coming?" she asked, and Remus' father nodded silently. His eyes were haunted in a way that made him eerily resemble his son.

Mrs. Bones nodded. "Alright. Eddie, keep things in order when they get here. I'll be back out shortly."

She had no sooner disappeared down the hallway when there was a pop and a good fifteen or so people were suddenly crammed into the kitchen, stumbling away from the Portkey and filling the space with a mixture of dry coughs and sniffling. They were soot-covered and fire-worn, dressed in the sad remains of their finest evening wear.

"Eddie?" Sirius Black extracted himself from the mix with a baffled expression.

"Sirius, mate." He crossed the space between them and embraced him briefly. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you like this. You look a fright. What's happened? The ministry's been completely hush-hush."

"It was... an attack," Sirius replied, eyes sliding distractedly to the people surrounding them. In the corner, Evangeline stood with her mother and brother, all three of them ashen faced and silent. "Death Eaters."

"Blimey."

"Excuse me," a witch stepped forward frantically, addressing Edgar. "I need to get home. There's been a misunderstanding. I can't be here, I just... need to leave. Please."

It was James' mother. Her eyes were desperate and searching, her hand clutched around the delicate chain on her neck.

"Mum!" James emerged behind her, taking her arm. "Please, Mum, just..."

"No!" She yanked her hand away.

Sirius caught James' eye then, and the look on his mate's face made his stomach turn to lead. James was fighting back tears, jaw clenched and fists bunched by his sides.

Edgar shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Miss, but we're not meant to let anyone leave. Ministry's orders."

James' mother let out a dry sob.

"The whole place is drowning in protective enchantment, besides," Edgar added. "I don't reckon anyone's getting in or out again anytime soon."

As she dissolved in a fresh wave of hysterics, James looked on in a fashion that could only be described as lost.

Seconds later, Mrs. Bones re-emerged from the hallway. When she saw the small mass of people standing in her kitchen, her jaw fell a few notches. "Oh dear Merlin..." Pulling herself together, she announced her presence. "Alright everybody," she said over the din. A hush fell over the crowd, save for the odd muffled sob. "The Ministry should be sending someone over shortly, but for now, sit tight." Her eyes glided anxiously over the faces surrounding her. "I've got soup and hot chocolate on the stove."

* * *

Some forty-five minutes later, Lily dragged a brush through her hair vacantly. She was sitting in front of an ancient vanity in the room she was sharing with several others, dressed in clothes the Bones had provided—a pair of trousers that was rather too large and a bulky t-shirt. Her dress lay in ruins on the carpet.

"Lily Evans?" A man had appeared at the doorway. He was tall, broad and greying, with a short moustache.

She lowered the brush in surprise. "Er, that's me, yes."

"Miles Barkwith, Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Would you mind coming downstairs for a moment?"

"Alright." She stood quickly, letting the borrowed hairbrush fall back onto the table.

Miles Barkwith led her through the corridor, down the rickety wooden stairs, and all the way to the basement, a dark, dingy room that smelled of mildew.

"Have a seat," he said, gesturing to one of two wooden chairs in front of an empty fireplace that looked as though it had never been used.

As Lily obeyed, the man followed suit and cleared his throat. "Miss Evans, I'm going to ask you a few questions about what happened earlier tonight, and I'd like you to answer them honestly. Can you do that for me?" He was speaking to her as one might a child, and it was mildly irritating.

"Of course." She nodded stiffly.

"Excellent. Now you're a muggleborn, is that right?"

"That's correct."

"And you're a student at Hogwarts?"

"Yes. Seventh year."

"Can you tell me what you were doing when the attack began?"

Lily thought back. Something cold slid through her veins as the memories returned. "I was on my way to get a drink," she said. "I'd been dancing with... with my boyfriend, but I needed a br—"

"Your boyfriend, what's his name?"

Lily frowned. "James Potter. I really don't see..."

"Were you directly targeted at any point during the attack?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. It happened so quickly."

Barkwith leaned forward slightly. "I am sure you are aware, Miss Evans, that Mr. Potter's father has seemingly disappeared, along with several other Ministry officials, including Lionel Hansen, whom I have been told is the father of your best friend."

She swallowed. "I am aware, yes."

"Would you say that Mr. Potter and Miss Hansen have a tendency to surround themselves with students who come from non-magical blood?"

"I—" Lily made a face. "No more so than anyone else, really. What sort of a question is that?"

Barkwith ignored her inquiry. "You would say, then, that you are one of the few muggleborn witches or wizards with whom they associate?"

"That's—wait a tick," Lily said, "are you trying to suggest that... that they went after my friends' parents because _I'm _a muggleborn?"

"Nothing of the sort, Miss Evans." There was a distinct lack of comfort in his tone. "We must follow any lead that presents itself, I'm sure you understand."

"Really?" Lily sat up straighter in her chair, something boiling within her chest. "Do you realize how completely ludicrous that is? The idea that a bunch of dark wizards are going to go after Ministry workers—Ministry workers who, might I add, were all in favour of the Muggle Rights bill—just because they're linked to some random seventeen-year-old witch?"

While Barkwith remained speechless, Lily carried on her tirade.

"It seems to me that the most _likely _solution is that this was all some sort of extension of the warning on Christmas Eve. But no, let's pin it all on Lily, just because she's a bloody muggleborn. _God, _I'm going to have to live with this sort of thing for the rest of my life, aren't I? How dare you try to put the blame on me?" Her voice broke here, and all of the emotions that she had been feeling over the course of the night bubbled to the surface, completely against her will. "How do you think I feel right now? My best friend's father is missing, my boyfriend has been trying to calm his mother down all night because she thinks her husband is _dead_. And to think that _I _could be the one responsible for that? It's sickening! And on top of everything, my own bloody family has no idea where I am, or what's happened to me. Why don't I get to tell _them _that I'm alright?"

Barkwith looked slightly stunned. He blinked several times and then rose to his feet. "Yes, yes very well, Miss Evans. I'll see what I can do." He creaked up the stairs and returned about a minute later with a small sack in his hand. "Just a quick pop in," he warned. "I can temporarily add your parents' house to the floo network, but only for about a minute, else it may be officially registered and picked up on by someone."

Lily was slightly surprised. "...Thank you," she said.

The ministry wizard started a very small fire in the dank hearth with his wand, and then tossed in a fistful of powder. "What's the address?"

"15 Willoughby Street, Surrey," Lily rattled off, and Barkwith muttered a complex-sounding charm under his breath. The flames rose to a crackling green blaze.

"Alright," he told her, "go ahead."

It was the strangest sensation, as though she was suspended in some sort of swirling void, except for her head, which rose above the flames. Lily opened her eyes to find herself staring into the familiar sitting room of her home. There was a sudden flurry of movement, a yelp, and the next thing she knew, popcorn was raining everywhere. Vernon and Petunia had leaped off of the sofa, Vernon squeezing Petunia's upper arm in terror as they stared into the fireplace, where they had undoubtedly just seen Lily's head materialize from the flames.

"Petunia," Lily spoke urgently. Her sister squeaked in response. "Where are Mum and Dad?"

Nothing.

"Petunia!" she tried again.

Her sister took a few tentative steps forward. "They... they went for a walk," she replied faintly.

Lily growled. "Great. Fantastic. Listen, I don't have much time. Just... tell them something for me, please? There's been a sort of... attack thing here. I'm fine and everything, but they're keeping us in a safehouse. I don't know when I'll be allowed back home."

Her sister breathed in sharply, and then nodded. "Alright." She caught Lily's eye—a very infrequent occurrence. "Are you going to be... okay?"

"I'm fine," Lily replied, taken aback at this rare sisterly display of worry. "Just tell Mum and Dad for me, yeah? And don't make it sound too serious. I don't want them worrying."

"Okay. Take care, Lily."

"Yeah, you too."

She pulled out of the flames, felt the wind rushing around her as the faint wisps of Vernon's voice (_...not surprised. Ruddy criminals, all of them..._) lingered in her ears.

Barkwith was waiting behind her as she withdrew herself from the flames, and he promptly extinguished the emerald fire.

Lily turned to face him. "Thank you," she said begrudgingly.

"You're a very clever witch, Miss Evans," he said by way of response. He was eyeing her up critically, but there was something appraising in his gaze. "Disagreeable, maybe, and quite disrespectful, but...undeniably clever."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "I guess we can agree on something, then," she said, and with that, she turned on her heel and marched back up the stairs.

* * *

Snow was falling steadily outside of the window of the cottage's smallest bedroom. Inside, Isabelle sat on an old chair, pyjama-clad legs drawn up to her chest as she stared at the sleeping boy beneath the covers of the bed. Remus was sickly white and vulnerable-looking as he slept, lips parted slightly and eyelashes dusting his cheeks. His hair spread out over the creases of the pillow, his freckles startlingly visible, even in the lamplight.

Isabelle dropped her chin onto her knees and continued to watch him, feeling her heart rise up out of her chest. The medi-wizard had been with him for a full twenty minutes after arriving; she'd watched him pour various tonics down Remus' throat from outside the door. Nobody had noticed her slip into his room when his parents had left for Ministry questioning. Nobody seemed to notice her much at all these days.

There was a shifting noise as Remus began to stir.

Isabelle held her breath, dropping her legs back down to the floor and suddenly feeling as though she shouldn't be there. Her heart raced as Remus' eyes flickered open.

The boy blinked several times, remaining completely still. Isabelle did not breathe.

Then, his eyes flew open all the way and he attempted to sit up quickly, wincing and letting his head fall back onto the pillow with a thud.

"Don't try to sit up," Isabelle said before she could stop herself. "It'll only make it worse."

Remus turned his head. He looked utterly confused as he spoke groggily. "...Isabelle? What are you—What happened to me? Where am I?"

Isabelle hesitated slightly. Then, she shuffled her chair a little closer to his bedside. "How much do you remember?"

Remus squinted. "The party," he said. "I was going to find Pete..." His eyes widened. "There was a lot of pain. I think I blacked out."

"The _Cruciatus,_" Isabelle supplied quietly. "The medi-wizard said you must've been hit about three or four times in a row."

Remus sucked in a breath, confusion apparent on his face. "The _Cruciatus_—I don't understand—_Who _would...?"

"Death Eaters. They broke into the house. A lot of people are missing. Eva's dad, and James', too..."

Remus really did sit up this time. "My parents," he said.

"They're fine," Isabelle assured him. "They're downstairs. This Ministry official's been going around questioning everyone about the attack."

He lay his head back down, eyes beginning to droop. "Oh... good."

Silence ticked by. It was only after about five minutes of awkwardness that Isabelle realized he had fallen asleep.

* * *

The next time Remus woke up, Isabelle was the one sleeping. She was still in the chair, but her arms were resting on the bedside table, supporting her head as she quietly breathed in an out. Her cheeks were pink and her curls were falling across her face, almost completely free of the now-dangling butterfly clip. Remus watched the delicate hairpiece for a moment, feeling a rush of some negative memory surfacing, and then looked away, rolling onto his side. The bed creaked.

With a quiet intake of breath, Isabelle jolted awake, raising her head from her arms and sitting up. The side of her face was quite red where it had been pressed against the scratchy sleeve of the thick wool sweater Mrs. Bones had forced upon her. She looked at Remus, noted his slightly uneven breathing, and made a decision. Moving as quietly as possible, she rose to her feet and slipped out the door.

Several minutes later, she re-entered the room, carrying two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Remus was lying on his side with his eyes open, and he gave Isabelle a tired, vaguely questioning glance as she set one of them down on his bedside table.

"If you want it," she said.

He made no move at first, but after several seconds, he gave in. He pulled himself up so that his back was against the headboard and picked up the mug, blowing on it a few times before taking a tentative sip. "Thanks."

Isabelle nodded. She watched him as he drank, noting the way his fingers curled around the sides of the mug, ignoring the handle, the way his lips moved in the same manner before every sip, expelling air to cool it down. Behind her, snow continued to fall.

And then, suddenly, she broke.

"Remus, I'm sorry," she blurted out, putting her own drink down with a dull clink. "I'm just...so, so sorry." Before she could do anything to stop it, she was bursting into tears.

Remus watched in stunned silence as her sobs grew in intensity and she put her face into her hands. Wordlessly, he put his mug next to hers on the table. "Isabelle..."

"No." She shook her head fiercely. "I'm a horrible person. What I did... the way I reacted, was completely unforgivable."

Strangely, Remus was shaking his head, too. "Don't be sorry," he said. "I don't want you to be sorry." After a moment of consideration, he stared at the foot of the bed and said: "If I were in your position, I probably would have done the exact same thing."

This just made Isabelle cry even harder. "Just... just stop. S-stop putting yourself down. I was a complete... _arse_. I was a-awful. You have every right to be furious."

"You don't get it," he said, looking up to stare her dead in the eyes. "I'm done being angry." He exhaled. "I've spent thirteen bloody years being angry at the world, angry at _myself, _mostly, and I'm just... _done_. I don't care anymore. People are going to look at me a certain way, when they find out, and that's alright. It's natural to be afraid."

After a beat of silence: "It wasn't because of that." Isabelle hiccuped slightly as she looked up. "I mean, maybe at the very beginning there was some fear, but mainly it was... You know when you just want something _so _much that you feel like you might die if you don't get it?" She hastened to elaborate: "It's like, when I was ten, my parents organized this trip for us to go to Paris, to celebrate my last year before leaving for Hogwarts, and I was _so, so _excited for it.

"It was all I could think about that year. I doodled the Eiffel tower all over my schoolbooks, I watched _Funny Face_ almost every night after school, and I even started spending all of my pocket money on these silly French magazines. And then, with all the waiting and wishing I could fast-forward time, I started to get really paranoid that something was going to go wrong and it wouldn't end up happening. Like, maybe my dad wouldn't be able to get the time off work, or the airplane would crash before we arrived. "

Remus was listening intently with a very, very small hint of a smile on his face.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that it was sort of the same thing. I realized..." She swallowed. "I realized I was... in love with you. And I couldn't stand the thought of not being _able _to love you, or have any kind of a future. I just felt like... like..."

"Like the airplane crashed before you got to Paris," Remus supplied.

"...Oh god, that sounds completely ridiculous, doesn't it?"

"No, it's quite a good metaphor, actually." Remus did smile now, though it was tight-lipped.

"I'm sorry," she said again, cheeks wet with tears. "I really, really am."

"Isabelle," Remus said. "I forgive you, alright? I'm sorry if I've been giving the impression that I was furious with you, or something. The truth is, I've mostly just been avoiding you because I thought you hated me. And it was... painful, I guess, to feel that way." He paused for a moment, as though considering something. "Maybe this is too forward," he said slowly, "but I hope we'll be able to stay friends."

"That's sort of what I've been trying to get to," Isabelle said, with something hesitant in her tone. "I was wondering. Um. Oh, god, I don't really know how to say this..."

"It's fine," Remus said quickly. "I shouldn't have asked. I s'pose it'd be too weird, sorry."

"No! No, that's not it at all! I just was hoping that... maybe... we could try things out again? Potentially?"

Remus was completely silent.

"Or, no, forget I said anything, that was stupid. Really stupid."

"No." He laughed. "Merlin, we're not particularly great at this, are we?" For a moment, he was silent again, and then he let out a sigh. "Isabelle," he said. "I have to know that you're _sure_. Do you really want to get yourself involved in all of this? Because you have an out. Absolutely no hard feelings if you walk away now."

Isabelle bit her lip. "Do you want me to walk away?"

"No... I... I _really_ don't," he hastened to say. "But, no, that's not—I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, or anything. I want it to be your choice."

"There is no choice," Isabelle said. "I can't change the way I feel, and being without you is a whole lot more painful than being with you, that's for sure. And as for your..."

"Furry little problem?" Remus supplied. At her questioning look, he made a face. "S'what Sirius calls it."

Isabelle laughed through her drying tears. "Why am I not surprised?" she said, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "But I _have _been thinking about it, and who's to say that things won't change in the future? That they won't find some sort of... cure or something. I mean, I've been reading about trials they've been doing with different potions, and it's actually quite fascinating. There was this one with moondew I was looking at where—"

She stopped abruptly when Remus' hand curled around her own, and looked up to see that his eyes were swimming with tears. Smiling tremulously, she rose from the chair and leaned over, pressing their clasped hands against Remus' heart as she touched her lips softly to his.

* * *

In the darkened downstairs hallway, James leaned his back against the wall, a long, lean silhouette against the harsh light of the kitchen behind him. It was late, and he supposed most of the stragglers had gone to bed, but the thought of sleeping seemed utterly ridiculous right now.

His shoved his hand roughly into the pocket of the dress pants he hadn't even bothered to change out of yet, a frown on his face, and felt his fingers connect with something cold and round. Digging around, he extracted the tiny snitch he had been planning on giving Lily for Christmas—his first ever catch. Inside, he'd hidden a pretty, heart-shaped locket that had reminded him of the gold in her hair. Now, he held tightly to the sphere, feeling the tiny shudder pass through it as the wings were unfurled.

James loosened his grip until the snitch lay flat on his palm, wings flapping lazily at its sides. It flew upwards slightly, slowed both by age and the weight of the necklace in its centre, and James captured it easily, barely sparing a thought to the action. As he continued to release and capture it idly, footsteps floated up from the basement stairs. He heard his mum's voice, and was surprised to see her emerge from the cellar with Evangeline's mother by her side. The two of them were red-eyed and worn looking as they shuffled into the hallway, not noticing James where he was hidden in the shadows.

"But there's no proof," Selene was saying. "You heard Barkwith, he said that it's likely they were just taken. He's going to be fine. They all are."

"No." James' mother was sobbing. James released the snitch and caught it with a dull _thwack_. "No, he's _not fine_, and I know it." She lowered her voice. "It's... it's my necklace. It's cold. Not beating, not warm, it's just..." She whispered the last word. "...dead."

James' hand went slack. The snitch floated upward, forgotten. The necklace. _Charmed_, his mother would always giggle. _So that it beats with his heart. Bit cheesy, but sweet all the same._ _I've had it since I was barely nineteen, you know..._

Suddenly, he felt sick to his stomach. As the two women rounded the corner, he grabbed the descending snitch and shoved it roughly into his pocket. Then, eyes blurring, he fought his way up the stairs and down to the end of the creaky, stooped hallway. The room was dark and silent, but by the light of the stars, he could see Lily's sleeping form curled up on the bed closest to the door. Wordlessly, lifelessly, he dropped down beside her, stretching out on the hard mattress.

"James?" Lily turned sleepily, whispering in concern. "James, what is it?"

A broken sob escaped from his throat, and suddenly, his shoulders were shaking. Something shifted on Lily's face, and her eyes, too, filled with sudden tears. Without another word, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. James reciprocated, latching onto her as though he had nothing else, and pressing his face into her shoulder, where he cried into her hair.

With numb fingers, Lily stroked up and down his back, staring at the wall behind him until the darkness burned her eyes.

* * *

"Bollocks!" Evangeline stumbled against the chipped sink in the bathroom as she attempted to navigate her way out of her tight evening dress. The sparkly blue affair, while admittedly pretty, was a bloody nightmare to get in and out of. It was halfway down her middle when she realized that that route was hopeless, and began dragging it back the other way, where it became lodged on her shoulders. Finally, with an almighty growl of frustration, she yanked as hard as she could, and a loud tearing noise filled the small room. It was with a dark sense of satisfaction that she examined the long rip in the delicate fabric that now lay pooled on the grimy tiled floor. _Serves you right_.

Unfortunately, disaster struck yet again when she began to dress herself in the pyjamas Mrs. Bones had laid out for her (a worn pair of track pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt with a wide neck). The ensemble was tragically large, even on her willowy athletic frame, and it quickly became apparent that there was simply no way it was going to work. The pants, which were held up with only a useless elastic waist band, were about five inches too big around, and the shirt hung loose and gaping over her chest, the neckline much too low.

"_Bollocks_," she said again. She glanced down at the pile of torn fabric that was the remains of her dress, and sighed. Awkwardly, holding onto the waistband of her pants, she turned the doorknob and shuffled out of the bathroom.

"Blimey, it sounded like someone was being beaten in there." Sirius stood in the hallway, holding a change of clothes in his arms. "You alright?"

Evangeline sighed. "Not particularly." She uncrossed her arm from across her body and stepped into the half-light to illustrate her point.

"Oh dear Merlin..." Sirius broke down into a choking fit of laughter.

"It's not _funny_."

"Sorry," he said, doubling over again.

"Oh, shove off. Would you stop choking yourself for a second and help me?"

"Sorry, sorry," he said again. Straightening up, he reached for his wand and pointed it at the t-shirt. Evangeline, suddenly a bit uncomfortable, pulled the neckline up so that it didn't fall so low on her chest. Sirius quickly averted his gaze and cleared his throat. Then, he muttered something very quietly, and the fabric began to shrink, pulling inward until it clung neatly to the angles of her body in a way that wasn't overly tight or loose.

"How did you know that spell?" Evangeline asked, trying to dispel some of the tension. "I'd've done it myself if I'd known."

"I used to to switch my old stuff up for Regulus." Sirius shrugged. "God, those pants are ridiculous." He aimed the tip of his wand at the cavernous waistband, and it began to cinch in around Evangeline's waist until she no longer had to bunch her fist around the fabric to hold them up.

They really were standing very close, she realized, as she readjusted the pants on her hips. Sirius was staring idly at the bare skin that was exposed as she did this.

Evangeline felt her cheeks getting warm. "Thanks," she said.

"Anytime," Sirius returned, his voice gravelly.

"You heading to bed?"

"Well, I was going to get changed into this stylish ensemble," he brandished the armful of clothes, which seemed to contain large amounts of mustard yellow, "and then steal some more food from the kitchen. You?"

Evangeline shook her head. "Nah, I don't think I'd be able to sleep." A trace of worry began to slip back into her expression, and both of them were brought back to the reality of their situation.

"Wait up for me," Sirius said. "I'll only be a second."

And indeed, he changed with incredibly frightening speed. He emerged from the bathroom less than a minute later clad in a hideous yellow sweatshirt and black trousers. It was a testament to Sirius' looks that he somehow managed to pull it off with minimal ridiculousness.

"You'll notice that I'm not laughing my arse off at you right now," Evangeline said as they walked together down the hallway. "Unlike _some _people, I have a thing called tact."

"Please, we all know the only reason you're not laughing is because I look fit in anything," Sirius countered, grinning down at her.

"Whatever makes you sleep at night..."

They came upon the deserted kitchen, where the lanterns were still lit and a plate of oatmeal cookies sat on the counter. Wordlessly, the two of them reached for a biscuit, Evangeline leaning forward to rest her elbows on the counter, and Sirius slumping onto a wooden bar stool. In the silence, Eva felt her insides begin to revert to their near-constant state of anxiety and unease. She drummed her fingers on the countertop, feeling a rising urge to just _do _something.

"He's going to be alright, you know," she blurted out.

Sirius looked over with raised eyebrows.

"My dad," Eva elaborated. "He's going to be fine. They're going to find him."

Nodding slowly, Sirius swallowed the remains of his cookie. "I know."

There was silence for a moment. Evangeline's finger-tapping picked up in its speed.

"I just hate not being able to _do _anything, you know?" she continued, antsy in her fidgeting. "It's like, he's out there, and I just have to sit here and wait."

"It's bollocks," Sirius agreed. "Ruddy Ministry's not giving us any information at all."

"Tell me about it."

There was a slight silence, and then Evangeline suddenly sprung up. "Sirius," she said. "They're still here, right? The blokes from the Ministry?"

"Er... I reckon so."

"In the basement?"

"Probably."

She pushed away from the counter. "Feel like a bit of eavesdropping?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows in appraisal. "Always."

A minute later, they were leaning over a vent in the floor, lying on their stomachs and listening to muffled voices rising from the tinny pipes.

"Someone really needs to invent some sort of magical eavesdropping device," Sirius whispered into Evangeline's hair. Their heads were pressed together over the small opening, and despite everything, Evangeline felt her heart beat strangely at the proximity. Having Sirius right there, a warm weight pressed against her body, was slightly overwhelming.

"Agreed," she whispered.

They lay there on the carpet in complete silence for a minute, just listening to each other breathe and struggling to make out any sort of conversation coming up from the basement.

_"...word from Fawcett... detected activity in Avebury... likely holding them as a threat..."_

_"...Ministry already received a notice... demanding that they overturn the bill..."_

_"...what about the auror department? Surely they can send someone..."_

_"...too dangerous... minister has ruled against it...can't bend to their demands, but we don't want to start a war either..."_

_"...even if we could... Avebury is not to be tampered with... no form of magical transportation will get you there... probably crawling with wards."_

_"So what, then, they're to be... sacrifices?"_

_"We can't save everybody, Barkwith."_

Evangeline had heard enough. She pushed herself up on all fours sharply, and then quickly rose to her feet. Sirius wasn't far behind.

"They... they can't," she said, breath coming out more rapidly than she would have liked. "Why would they—?" As she raised a hand to her mouth, Sirius surprised her by putting his arms round her back and drawing her into his chest with strong, steady hands, resting his chin on the top of her head.

After a moment, he released her, and there was something forming in his eyes.

Evangeline looked up at him. "What is it?"

Sirius set his shoulders. "I have an idea."

* * *

**A/N: **So I keep forgetting to mention that I painted a sort of illustration for the last chapter (_Why, Liz? Why do you spend time on such things when you can barely find the time to write?_ Because it is fun. Shut up.) It's an acrylic painting of the Christmas party at Evangeline's. The link is on my profile, if you feel like having a look.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you times infinity to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I replied to everyone who wasn't anonymous, but for you lovely anon people:

**rode: **Thank you, I'm really glad you liked it. :)

**"Guest": **Oh dear, there were like seven hundred million "Guests"... this is going to get confusing. I will put everything in bullet points, and hopefully you can pick out which is meant for you. (This is not going to work, but I am going to do it anyway, yay!)

-It makes me very happy that you like my OCs, so thank you  
-Thank you. YOU are awesome!  
-Oh, the Trelawney thing. I feel as though this will haunt me until my dying day. :P  
-I am glad you didn't die!  
-Aw, thank you. I find the lack of Snape odd, too. I really don't know what was going through my brain when I started this story, but I'm stuck with it now. And... wow. That is absolutely one of the biggest compliments you can give, so thank you. (People like you are the reason I have any faith left at all in my dream to someday be published).  
-Okay, seriously, just replying to all these is like making my heart swell. I am amazing and stupefied that you spent an entire day reading. Thank you so much for the kind words.  
-I'm really glad you like the split focus of the story, as it's something that I've always been a bit wary about. Also thank you for having the devotion to read it so quickly. Wow, you people actually rock my socks.

**Moony: **Woo, a fellow Elizabeth/Liz! Clearly, you are awesome. And also WAY too nice. I'm glad you got Eva on the quiz, and you must have pretty cool friends if you refer to each other by the Marauders' names. My friends would probably disown me if I suggested this. :( And do not apologize for the long review! Long reviews are my best friends. :)

**siri . black: **I am beyond flattered, but there is SO much talent out there in the fandom, it's insane.

**Guyanese Witch: **J.K. Rowling would be proud? I am basically crying right now. Sadly, J.K. Rowling would probably just be like, "Why is this girl writing my characters in such a strange, appalling fashion? Why is Sirius wearing a mustard yellow sweater?" But thank you for the sweet comment. I'm glad you like all of the storylines, too.

**Lilyluna: **Oh gosh, again with this. You are way too nice. Thank you!

**RegulusBlackGrim: **I apologize for my perpetual slowness. :(

**Ava R: **Trust me, my writing has many, many flaws. But I'm always learning. Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

**NumberOneNarcissist:** OH MY GOD do not do that. Please. I feel as though you have given this plan a lot of thought, and that is mildly frightening. :P Look, I am replying! And I updated! Does that mean I don't have to die? ...

**Tarryn: **I don't know how _you _did it, but your review made me want to do a similar combination of things (minus the cringing ;) ). Thank you so much, truly. I hope Isabelle has slightly redeemed herself after this chapter, but even _I _feel as though Remus might have forgiven her a bit too easily. I am amazed and honoured that I made you cry (that sounded really weird, but it's the weird truth). And Christmas is my favourite holiday too. :)

**FeatherFlame: **I don't know if you're still reading, but thanks. :) Haha, I wrote that part SO many years ago it's actually crazy to think about.

I hope I didn't miss anyone.

I would love, love, love to hear your comments in a review!

Thanks for reading, as always. :)

-Liz


	18. Midnight over Avebury, Part One

**A/N: **This is only the first part of the chapter. In the interest of getting _something _to all of the people politely asking for an update, I have decided to split this installment in half. Life, as usual, has taken a few crazy twists and turns since I last updated. I do have a fair bit more of this one written, but it's all in snippets and bits and pieces that need to be patched together into an actual chapter.

**In case you need a refresher (which you probably do), I am introducing a new segment!**

_**"Previously on **_**Written in the Stars**_**..."**_

_Lily shook her head mutely. Her eyes swept the shattered remains of the room. Picture frames and lamps had fallen and now lay in shards across the hardwood floor, and furniture was charred and curse-blackened. All around, people were searching for loved ones, or huddled in groups on the floor, waiting for their groups to be reunited and refusing to disapparate until everyone was accounted for._

* * *

_"It was... an attack," Sirius replied, eyes sliding distractedly to the people surrounding them. In the corner, Evangeline stood with her mother and brother, all three of them ashen faced and silent. "Death Eaters."_

_"There is no choice," Isabelle said. "I can't change the way I feel, and being without you is a whole lot more painful than being with you, that's for sure. And as for your..."_

_"Furry little problem?" Remus supplied. At her questioning look, he made a face. "S'what Sirius calls it."_

_Isabelle laughed through her drying tears. "Why am I not surprised?" she said, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "But__ I_ have _been thinking about it, and who's to say that things won't change in the future? That they won't find some sort of... cure or something. I mean, I've been reading about trials they've been doing with different potions, and it's actually quite fascinating. There was this one with moondew I was looking at where—"_

_She stopped abruptly when Remus' hand curled around her own, and looked up to see that his eyes were swimming with tears. Smiling tremulously, she rose from the chair and leaned over, pressing their clasped hands against Remus' heart as she touched her lips softly to his._

* * *

_"No." James' mother was sobbing. James released the snitch and caught it with a dull_ thwack_. "No, he's _not_ fine__, and I know it." She lowered her voice. "It's... it's my necklace. It's cold. Not beating, not warm, it's just..." She whispered the last word. "...dead."_

_James' hand went slack. The snitch floated upward, forgotten. The necklace. _Charmed_, his mother would always giggle. _ So that it beats with his heart. Bit cheesy, but sweet all the same. I've had it since I was barely nineteen, you know...

* * *

_They lay there on the carpet in complete silence for a minute, just listening to each other breathe and struggling to make out any sort of conversation coming up from the basement._

_"...word from Fawcett... detected activity in Avebury... likely holding them as a threat..."_

_"...Ministry already received a notice... demanding that they overturn the bill..."_

_"...what about the auror department? Surely they can send someone..."_

_"...too dangerous... minister has ruled against it...can't bend to their demands, but we don't want to start a war either..."_

_"...even if we could... Avebury is not to be tampered with... no form of magical transportation will get you there... probably crawling with wards."_

_"So what, then, they're to be... sacrifices?"_

_"We can't save everybody, Barkwith."_

_Evangeline had heard enough. She pushed herself up on all fours sharply, and then quickly rose to her feet. Sirius wasn't far behind._

_"They... they can't," she said, breath coming out more rapidly than she would have liked. "Why would they—?" As she raised a hand to her mouth, Sirius surprised her by putting his arms round her back and drawing her into his chest with strong, steady hands, resting his chin on the top of her head._

_After a moment, he released her, and there was something forming in his eyes._

_Evangeline looked up at him. "What is it?"_

_Sirius set his shoulders. "I have an idea."_

* * *

******Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J.K.R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and…well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Midnight Over Avebury (Part One)**

"Are you _sure _about this?" Evangeline's words, though whispered, echoed slightly around the cellar as she examined the dark passageway.

Sirius, who was by her side, lifted his wand to shine a faint beam of light ahead. A long corridor stretched out, straight and narrow with no discernible end. "No," he admitted. "But if it's how I remember it, it should take us to the outskirts of the village."

"And the wards?"

"Shouldn't be a problem." Sirius took a tentative step forward. The ground was soft and earthy underfoot. "Eddie and I used to sneak out at night sometimes when I stayed over—mind you, we were about twelve, so it was years ago—but his parents caught on and ended up putting a Curfew Line around the house. Only took us about a day to figure out that we could still get out through here. The charm doesn't work underground or something."

Evangeline still looked sceptical. "And Curfew Line logic applies to actual wards and Ministry-level protective enchantments?"

"It's meant to be an escape tunnel," Sirius told her. "One way only, in case of emergencies. We learned that one the hard way, trust me."

"I do," Evangeline said quietly, taking them both by surprise.

Sirius was silent for a moment as he took a few more steps. Then, he twisted to face Evangeline, who was standing by the gnarled wooden opening with her arms crossed and her eyes focused on the depths of the tunnel. "Listen," he said, and her eyes locked to his, "we don't have to do this."

Evangeline shook her head. "We do. You heard them." She withdrew her wand from the waistband of her pants and moved forward to join him under the stooped ceiling. "It's just Mum I'm worried about. I mean, she's going to wake up and realize that I've disappeared as well. She'll think..." Her voice trailed off, echoing in the dank air.

Sirius turned more; his shoulders were facing her, a broad silhouette against the earthen walls, while the rest of his body remained shifted away. "You can still go back and let her know," he said.

"Yeah," Evangeline snorted; The sound was horribly sharp and unwelcome in the narrow space. "That'll go over well. _By the way Mum, I'm just off to Avebury for a bit to frolic with the Death Eaters. Be back in time for tea._"

Sirius stared at her for a long moment, the light from his wand highlighting the angles of his face. "I don't know what you want me to say," he finally said.

"I know," Evangeline whispered. "I don't know either." And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, whatever flicker of insecurity had just crossed her features was gone. "Sorry. I'm a bit on edge, obviously." She inhaled deeply, and the next words were spoken on a shaky breath: "Can we just go?"

For a few seconds, Sirius continued to look at her in a way that was almost torn—as though he was debating whether or not to proceed. A long, hesitant stare passed between them. Then, wordlessly, he turned on his heel.

The tunnel was cold, night-blackened, and ringing with a dull silence that seemed to be the result of years and years of disuse . Every footstep was intrusively jarring in the stillness. The air had a thick, musty quality to it, and as it filled their noses and throats, speaking seemed to become impossible. As the minutes ticked on—five, ten, fifteen—Evangeline stared at Sirius' feet on the ground and concentrated on matching her footsteps with his. The routine of it was a distraction. Left, right, left, right.

Despite the feeble diversion tactic, unwelcome thoughts began to wrap their ghostly tails around her mind. Doubt, apprehension and raw fear escaped with the condensation in every breath she took. It was the first time since the shock of it all that she actually thought about it; her father was missing. Gone without a trace. He could be trapped somewhere, could be hurt, could be...

_Don't think it. Don't._

"How much further, do you reckon?" Evangeline asked, the words hurried and abrupt.

Sirius slowed his pace and when he replied, his voice cracked from disuse. "Actually, I think we've made it."

His wand's thin beam of light sketched out a trapdoor on the low ceiling. It was made of wood and fastened with a rusted silver latch.

"Hold this, will you?" Sirius asked, unloading his wand onto Evangeline, who pointed it upwards while he fiddled with the lock. Several seconds later, he withdrew his hands. "Bugger. Pass me my wand?"

She complied, and watched as he cast _Alohomora _several times. The latch would not budge. Evangeline felt a feeling of panic begin to rise in her stomach.

"Must be charmed," Sirius muttered as he lowered his arms. He began rummaging around in his pockets.

"There's got to be another way," Evangeline said desperately. "_Alohomora_," she tried again._ "Finite incantatem. _Er, _Liberare_." All three spells bounced off of the rusty metal in turn. The door remained firmly locked.

Sirius, meanwhile, was still rifling through the pockets of his jeans.

"What are you looking for?"

He extracted something that gleamed in the faint light. "This."

She watched in disbelief as he reached up and fiddled with the strip of metal. Within seconds, there was a click. The latch sprung open.

"How...?" Evangeline was still gaping upward when she saw the outline of the instrument; it appeared to be some sort of penknife. "Blimey," she said faintly, "so many of you lot's pranks suddenly make sense. Where on earth did you get that?"

"Dodgy sort of pawn broker in Knockturn Alley," Sirius replied as he tucked it back into his pocket. "Best five galleons I've ever spent, believe me."

The door had opened up to reveal the starry night sky, which stretched out above the like a jewel-studded piece of velvet. The low stoop of the ceiling meant that getting up was an easy feat; Evangeline hoisted herself through the opening before Sirius could so much as offer to help. He emerged with ease a moment later, bending down to pull the groaning wooden door shut behind him.

A cool breeze whipped by, swirling through the bare tree branches and snaking between tall, frosted light posts, stirring up snowflakes. Behind them, the village of Godric's Hollow was a small cluster of twinkling yellow lights. The snow was deep and the air was crisp, and in their thin sweaters and borrowed pants and shoes, the two escapees were freezing.

Evangeline shivered. Her lips were bright red against the paleness of her face. "We need cloaks."

"And provisions," Sirius added.

"If you mean food, then I approve. I'd suggest my place but I don't think that's the _best _option at the moment."

"Don't worry, I've got a plan." Sirius grabbed her hand, their palms cold and dry as they clasped together.

There was a loud pop as the pair disappeared from the outskirts of the village, their footsteps left deserted and fragmented in the snow. When Evangeline next blinked, she was gazing upon a grand mansion surrounded by a gated yard. Topiary floated under a blanket of white, pointing up toward the three storey roof of the Victorian-style dwelling of red brick. The interior was dark, but strands of golden lights hung along the wainscoting and the walkway was lit by yellow lanterns that twirled overhead.

"James' place?" Evangeline surmised.

"The one and only."

She gazed upward, freckles aglow in the golden shine of the lanterns. "So _this_ is where the two of you summer."

"You sound surprised."

"Haven't you heard the rumours? It's supposed to be far less conventional. Dorcas Meadowes has been going on for ages about how you live in a five-storey bachelor pad with a full Quidditch pitch out the back. "

"Well, you haven't seen the backyard yet." With a faintly playful smile, Sirius nodded onwards. "Come on, then."

Inside, the Potter house smelled of cinnamon and cedarwood. The ceilings were high and a long, twisting staircase ran up from the entrance hall, disappearing into the darkness above. Sirius flicked his wand and a string of gold-hued orbs lit up along the hallway, casting the space into partial luminosity.

"Right. Let's make this quick," Evangeline said, and her voice echoed through the warm foyer.

Sirius nodded. "My bedroom's just upstairs and to the right. If you want to grab some cloaks and things, I'll take care of the rest."

"Sounds good."

They parted ways swiftly, Sirius disappearing down the hallway while Evangeline ascended the winding steps. The first door on the right had a little plaque with _Sirius _scrawled out in etching cursive, and she pushed it open gently.

His room was generously proportioned, with a big bay window along the far wall and long, crimson drapes that fell all the way from the lofty ceiling to tickle the carpet far below. Muggle posters of pretty women and strange pieces of machinery covered the walls. In the centre, there was a bed frame of dark wood upon which sat a high mattress that was simply clad in a red bedspread.

The smell was so very _Sirius _that Evangeline was, for a moment, reminded of the way his room had looked on Grimmauld Place; oddly similar and yet so very different. The furnishings, she realized, were identical. Once trapped between walls of rough granite and floors of cold wood, they were now nestled amongst warm colours and soft carpet. There was something irrefutably more suitable about this arrangement.

A tiny handful of clothing hung wanly in the depths of the wardrobe—two cloaks, a white shirt and a pair of pants. Evangeline took the cloaks and then rummaged through his dresser until she managed to procure two jumpers that were black and generally unremarkable. All of this was done with a sense of haste that was spurred on by the shaking in her fingers and the growing numbness in her mind. Outside, the stars were still tiny silver needles in a black pincushion. Eva wondered what time it was as she hurried back to the lower landing.

Sirius, meanwhile, was nowhere to be found, and most of the hallways were still in a state of darkness. Floorboards creaked beneath Evangeline's feet as she sought him out.

"Sirius?" she tried, her voice quiet.

Dust particles swirled and danced in the light of her wand. There was no response.

At the end of the hall, there was a grand doorframe that was intricately gilded and stretched twice the size of a regular entryway. Evangeline, drawn by some strange curiosity, stepped through and found herself in an enormous ballroom with chandeliers that twinkled even in the dark of night. A grand piano was awash in the starlight streaming through a row of high picture windows, and hundreds of mirrors lined the walls, giving an illusion of even more grandeur. The sheer size of the space made Eva feel very, very small.

She crept slowly forward and found herself looking up to the bright, star-studded sky that was captured by the window's thick edges. Twinkling gold Christmas lights lined the window frame and as she looked at them, the festive colours suddenly blurred in her vision.

_Dad, we'd better not be going outside._

_Go on, open your eyes._

Her skin prickled. Her throat ached. And all the while, her mind kept on shuffling through the same frightening slew of questions: What if it was too late? What if he was already gone for good? The thought seemed such a ludicrous impossibility that Evangeline could barely wrap her head around it. All of the emotions that she had been so furiously repressing began to break through their confines, and it was unstoppable, like a dam crumbling under the weight of rushing water. She held the jumpers and cloaks to her body tightly, failing to notice the footsteps approaching from her left.

"There you are. Okay, I've got bread, peanut butter, and this marmalade that James' mum makes; it's excellent, you'll enjoy it. Extra cauldron cakes, obviously, and—" Sirius froze just past the doorway. He was holding a backpack and wearing a look of startled concern. "—are you alright?"

When Evangeline turned from the window, her wet cheeks reflected the stars.

"What is it?" Sirius asked. It seemed a stupid question, given the nature of the circumstances, but she realized that her behaviour had hardly given him any cause for concern up until this point.

"It's... nothing," Evangeline said, and then coughed out something that might have been a sob. "No. That's a lie. It's... everything. " She looked at the bundle of black fabric in her hands as she spoke. "Sirius," she said. "What if...?"

There was the creaky, loping sound of footsteps on the short staircase. "No," Sirius said firmly, "You can't go there. You said it yourself; everything's going to be fine."

Evangeline felt her eyes squeeze shut. "I just. I can't..."

"We're going to Avebury," Sirius carried on. "We're going and we're figuring this out and we're bloody well not leaving until they let them go."

Evangeline let out a huge sob, one that had been viciously held back, and then she was letting herself cry into his chest, taking big breaths of air and resting her forearms limply against his body. Sirius moved so that his arms were tight around her. His hand moved reassuringly up and down her back.

When Evangeline moved away, her hands rose to swipe the tears off of her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she sniffed. "God, I'm sorry. Just ignore me."

"Ignore you?" Sirius stepped back, keeping his hands on her shoulders, and stared at her in disbelief. "Not bloody likely. Believe it or don't, but I do care for you rather a lot."

He was staring into her eyes in a manner that could almost be described as fierce. Evangeline, as though by instinct, swayed forward a little. Very, very slowly, she leaned in, until their faces were mere millimetres apart. Sirius could hear the way her breathing was hitching slightly, see the individual tear tracks on her cheeks. His eyes followed her lips as they neared his, until he could no longer strain his gaze so far.

Then, Evangeline pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. Sirius slackened at the contact, settling his hand loosely at her waist. The tears on her cheekbones were wet and cool against his own; the sensation caused him to shiver as he returned the kiss delicately.

"See?" Sirius breathed as they pulled apart. The word was a chill against Evangeline's tear-streaked skin. "There's nothing wrong with letting your feelings out."

"Well, consider them thoroughly outed," Evangeline said. She wiped her eyes one last time and then rearranged the cloaks in her hands. "Right. Now, you were saying something about cauldron cakes?"

* * *

_"Prongs."_

James blinked, trying to dispel the disorienting sensation of waking up in an unfamiliar place. Everything was upside-down and backwards and he hadn't a clue where he was. It was pitch black, save the bluish stream of moonlight spilling through the window. The bed was hard, there was someone warm sleeping beside him, and he could have sworn he had just heard Sirius' voice. He sat up, wincing at the loud groan the mattress made beneath his shifting torso. The body next to him stirred.

"James?" Lily said sleepily.

_"Prongs," _Sirius repeated.

"Padfoot?" James murmured stupidly, swiping his hair off of his face and rearranging his glasses, which he realized had been dangling from one ear.

_"Prongs. James. Come on, mate." _ It was then that James realized the urgent sound was coming from his pocket. Suddenly regaining some awareness, he reached for the cool piece of glass that never left his side. Sirius' face swam in the dimly illuminated shine of the two-way mirror.

"What's wrong?" James spoke abruptly, pushing himself off of the bed as he did so. He stumbled out into the hallway.

"No time to explain," said Sirius' reflection. "I need to know the new passcode for the shed."

James rubbed his eyes. "The what?"

"The shed. To get to the bike. Your parents must've changed the code because the old one's not working and I just used it two days ago, so—"

"Two taps instead of three on the third brick," James said sleepily. Then, it him like a clap of thunder. "Shit, wait a second. What's this for? Where_ are _you?"

A slight pause. "James, where do you think?"

"No. How did you manage to—?"

"The basement passage. Listen, we're sort of on a tight schedule here, so I can't talk for long."

"No. No! Padfoot, holy shit, you'd better not be doing what I think you're doing. Hansen's with you, isn't she?"

"...Possibly. Please, just keep it quiet, yeah?"

"Like hell! I'm not about to let you just run off and get yourself killed."

"Prongs, I mean it..."

"No, you're not doing this alone, you moron. Hold up; I'm coming with you."

There was a creak behind him. Lily stood silhouetted in the moonlight, groggily zipping up a jacket over her pyjamas. "James? What's going on?"

"Our idiot friends are taking it upon themselves to play the bloody hero, that's what's happening," he said in an agitated tone. Then, to the mirror: "Padfoot, you're mad if you think Moony and I—and Pete—would ever let you do this on your own. Where are you? We'll meet you there."

"Hang on, _what_?" Lily surged forward, suddenly alert. "Wait—" She froze upon seeing the mirror in James' hands. "_Sirius?_"

The reflection offered a hesitant wave.

Lily put her head in her hands. "There is far too much nonsense going on here."

"Prongs, we really have to go, I'm sorry."

"Don't be _sorry_, you tosser. Just tell me what I can do to help."

"Difficult to say, considering we don't really know what we're doing to begin with."

"Listen to yourself. In what world is this a good idea?"

"I don't know. Listen, if you really want to do something, talk to Eddie. He knows the way out, and I trust him."

James let out a massive sigh. "Just...for god's sake. Don't die, alright?"

"'Course. Don't be stupid."

The reflection shimmered away until only the darkened edges of James' face swam in the glass. "Idiot," James said to the mirror.

"The pair of them," Lily echoed. "They're out of their minds."

James stuffed the magical device back into the pocket of his trousers. "Someone needs to go after them."

"Yes," Lily agreed. "How, though? What do we even... Where do we even start?"

Under the faint beams of moonlight creeping into the dark corridor, James considered for a very long moment. "Remus," he said at last. "He always knows what to do."

* * *

Behind the golden lights of Potter Manor, there sat a small shed. It was tucked round the back of the house, neatly inconspicuous amidst a grove of elm trees. This night, under a blanket of snow, the building slept peacefully, the stillness punctuated only by the odd gust of wind and snow.

That is, until there was a click, a squeak of hinges, and two very heavy sighs of relief. Evangeline and Sirius stood before the open door, both wearing their tenseness like stiff cloaks of nerves over their already bundled layers of clothing.

"Thank Merlin," Evangeline said.

"Thank James," corrected Sirius.

"Please don't ever let him hear you compare him to a divine being. His head might _actually _explode."

"Nah," Sirius said, breath gusting out into the cold air. "Pete already christened him an official Quidditch God last year. It's nothing he hasn't heard before." He stuck his hands into his pockets. "All right, hold on, I'll be right back."

"With the motorbike." Evangeline pronounced the word as though it was a foreign term, completely unfamiliar on her tongue.

"With the motorbike," Sirius agreed, stepping forward until he was enveloped entirely by the darkness. He emerged about a half a minute later with something large, black and gleaming by his side; his hands sprawled over the ample handlebars.

Evangeline stepped forward in amazement. "It's from that poster, on your wall," she remembered. She examined the piece of machinery in more detail, eyebrows pinched in bemusement. "That is..." She stood back, shaking her head, "without a doubt the _strangest _thing I have ever seen."

"It's highly hip in the muggle community," Sirius assured her. "One might go so far as to say 'badass'."

Evangeline snorted. "I suppose I'll have to take your word for it."

"Always the sceptic."

"It _will _get us there, won't it?"

Sirius tightened his grip on the handlebars. "I hope so," he said. "It's not a strictly magical—just a muggle thing that's been charmed. I dunno. I'm not exactly an expert on transportation to Avebury."

Evangeline shivered. "Reassuring."

"Well, it's our only option at this stage, so..." With a deadpan shrug, Sirius swung a leg over the side of the bike.

"I know, I know." Evangeline stepped forward hesitantly. Then, she straddled the seat behind him, tucking her arms around his waist. There was a moment of silence as the two of them shifted, adjusting to the curves of the leather seat. Evangeline stifled a laugh, tucking her chin into her scarf. "I'm sorry," she said. "This feels... incredibly cheesy."

Sirius snorted. "Well," he said, "it's about to get even cheesier." He kicked the engine to life and it roared into the night. Headlights blazed against the far off walls of the house. "Hold on."

With an almighty snarl, the wheels spun into motion and then they were racing down the drive, exhaust fanning out behind as the freezing wind whipped by their faces. Sirius fiddled with something—a switch on the handle—and Evangeline let out a yelp of surprise as the bike, his back, her own legs and arms, _everything, _suddenly vanished into thin air.

"_Holy crap_," she called past the howling wind. She could feel the seat beneath her, feel her arms curled around Sirius' torso, but all around there was nothing but cold, clear space. The road whizzed past underneath, speeding along in a blur of rocky pavement and puddles of streetlight. It was unlike any sensation she had ever felt.

"All right?" she heard Sirius check. It was then that she realized she could still make out the faint outline of his frame in front of her; they were right in the middle of a damn good disillusionment charm.

She looked up, saw the city lights on the horizon, the dark night all around them, the trees spinning by on the sides of the road, and then she was laughing breathlessly. "Absolutely brilliant!" she yelled back.

"Good! Okay, when I say hold on this time, I really mean it."

"Okay?"

Without warning, the invisible support beneath them began to rise. The ground became further and further out of reach, the air cooling down as they rose into the sky, leaving the road far below as they soared overhead.

"Sirius!" Evangeline shouted, "this is bloody _insane_!"

She could hear his grin as he replied, "I know!"

The moon was full and heavy in the sky, supported by a fluffy bed of dark clouds. Below them, there was nothing but twinkling parish lights and clock tower spires, dark clumps of hill and valley, twisting rivers and tiny roadways snaking between villages. Evangeline couldn't see Sirius in front of her, but for the vague outline of thorough disillusionment, but she could feel his warmth. She pressed herself close against his back, eyes alight as she felt her hair billowing out like mad behind her. She was shivering and sleep-deprived, and yet the most awake she had ever felt in her life.

Unbeknownst to the sleeping towns below, the motorbike arced overhead, carving an invisible trail through the clouds as it surged onwards into the night.

* * *

**A/N: **So yep, there you have it. The motorcycle scene has been in the cards since the beginnings of WITS, so I will pull out my usual 'I-was-a-lame-fifteen-year-old' excuse for the blatant cliché (which is admittedly one of the more fun ones, in my opinion). I hope you enjoyed, and I will do my absolute best to get the next segment posted ASAP. If you can find it within your heart to leave a review, I will love you forever!

-Liz


	19. Midnight over Avebury, Part Two

_**"Previously on **_**Written in the Stars**_**..."**_

_"...even if we could... Avebury is not to be tampered with... no form of magical transportation will get you there... probably crawling with wards."_

_"So what, then, they're to be... sacrifices?"_

_"We can't save everybody, Barkwith."_

* * *

_"It's... nothing," Evangeline said, and then coughed out something that might have been a sob. "No. That's a lie. It's... everything. " She looked at the bundle of black fabric in her hands as she spoke. "Sirius," she said. "What if...?"_

_There was the creaky, loping sound of footsteps on the short staircase. "No," Sirius said firmly, "You can't go there. You said it yourself; everything's going to be fine."_

_Evangeline felt her eyes squeeze shut. "I just. I can't..."_

_"We're going to Avebury," Sirius carried on. "We're going and we're figuring this out and we're bloody well not leaving until they let them go."_

* * *

_Lily stood silhouetted in the moonlight, groggily zipping up a jacket over her pyjamas. "James? What's going on?"_

_"Our idiot friends are taking it upon themselves to play the bloody hero, that's what's happening," he said in an agitated tone. Then, to the mirror: "Padfoot, you're mad if you think Moony and I—and Pete—would ever let you do this on your own. Where are you? We'll meet you there."_

* * *

**Disclaimer: I would have to be seriously deluded to take credit for J. K. R.'s amazing creations. All characters, situations and... well, pretty much anything you recognize, belong to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Midnight Over Avebury (Part Two)**

"What a complete _imbecile_."

For having just rolled out of bed, Remus Lupin's vocabulary was scarily impressive; it was the fifth or sixth insulting synonym he had managed to employ toward Sirius since James had filled him in on the dire situation a few minutes earlier. Perhaps it was the approaching full moon, but the generally benign Marauder was undeniably cranky in his fuzzy socks and flannel pyjamas.

Peter, who was wearing a robe and slippers that looked as though they'd seen better days, nodded in agreement. "Is anyone actually surprised, though?"

"No. "

"Not a bit."

The three boys were gathered in the darkened kitchen area, speaking in hushed tones and pacing across the floorboards. They all spun around, caught in a beam of wandlight, when the stairs creaked and Lily and Isabelle rounded through the doorway.

"I wasn't about to leave her out," Lily justified at the expressions of surprise. "It's Eva."

"Fair enough," James said. He pulled out his wand. "_Muffliato_," he added. "Right, so we've got a major situation on our hands."

Remus made a deadpan face. "Everyone, the Sherlock Holmes of our generation."

"I'm sorry, would you like to take over?"

"No, please carry on."

James' expression was stony. "Let's just cut straight to the chase then. What the hell are we going to do?"

Silence.

James spun to Remus. "You're the brilliant one," he appealed. "Any brilliant ideas?"

"James," Remus shook his head, "ignoring the fact that I've just woken up, this is _way _beyond the realms of any 'brilliant idea' _any _of us might have. We can't just rush off after them—it'd be fighting stupidity with stupidity." He tapped his fingers against the rough wooden surface of the counter. "I don't see any other way but to tell someone who can actually do something."

"I agree," Isabelle said immediately. When everyone turned their attention to her, she blushed. "Well it's the only logical option, isn't it?"

"Damn it." James shoved aside his messy fringe and wiped his eyes behind his glasses. "What were they thinking?"

Remus barked out a hard, cynical laugh. "Sirius? Thinking? Have you _met _him?"

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Lily said. "They're both too irrational for their own good. And then you put the two of them together and it's like a chemical reaction of blind stupidity."

"Exactly," James said. He tapped his knuckles against his crossed arms as he chewed his lip. "Good Merlin, they're out of their actual _minds._"

Isabelle inhaled with worry. "Eva's mom is going to be beside herself. And Ethan..."

"Let's think about this logically," Lily said. "Where exactly did they say they were headed?"

James put a hand to his forehead. "Ugh, that probably would have been key information had I not been half-asleep during the interrogation."

A long interlude of silence followed, as they all stared at the flickering candle on the benchtop.

"Eddie," James finally said. It was spoken on an exhale; a sound of pure defeat.

"Bones?" Remus glanced over. "What about him?"

"He and Sirius've been mates since they were kids. It's his house, and Padfoot did mention him earlier..." He lifted his shoulders upward in surrender. "He might know what to do."

"Right," Remus said. "Alright, then. Let's do that."

It was clear that everyone was equally stumped for ideas, and from the bleary-eyed gazes that were everywhere in the dark, candlelit kitchen, it could be surmised that their brains were not operating at anywhere near full capacity. This, perhaps, was why the most logical choice seemed to be rousing Edward Bones from bed in the dead of night.

"Yeah," James whispered as he and Remus crept into the bloke's bedroom a few minutes later, awkward and stilted with their wands held out in front of them, "this may not have been my best idea."

"Well don't say that _now_," Remus hissed in exasperation.

There was a sudden rustling sound as Eddie sprung up in a flurry of covers and sheets. "Who's there?" he said, and James and Remus both jumped in surprise.

"Wait, Potter? 'S that you?" Eddie, bolt upright against the headboard, was holding a hand to his eyes against the glare of the wands. "'S literally stupid o'clock in the morning, mate. What're you—is everything alright?"

James and Remus looked at one another, shadows playing across their faces. "Sorry," James whispered. "We didn't know what else to do. It's Sirius."

* * *

The petrol station was a tiny, flickering gem beneath the snowy quilt of the landscape. When Sirius guided the bike to a chugging halt around the back of the building, the silence was almost deafening. Snowflakes drifted into the halos of the rusty light posts, brushing past icicles and swirling down to where sharp, glistening stalagmites were rising upward from the snowy tarmac. The space was entirely deserted.

As Evangeline pulled her arms away from Sirius, the insulation of their heating spell fell away and the chill of the winter air filled every crevice in her stiff body. Seconds later, the disillusionment charm crumbled apart.

"Alright?" Sirius said, and it was a strange relief to see him properly again, dark fringe falling out from under his beanie, harsh lighting propelling the angles of his face into sharp relief.

Evangeline nodded and swung her leg round the side of the bike. Her boot crunched into about a foot of snow. "Ugh, I was right," she said, wading forward a few steps and blinking the onslaught of icy precipitation from her eyes. "We're entering the Arctic Circle. Are you _sure _we're still in England?"

"Unfortunately," Sirius said, struggling to get the kickstand to work under the sea of white that had engulfed half of the motorbike. "Merlin, we're going to be buried alive out here."

They hurried round to enter the service station, where Sirius procured a handful of muggle change and bought a can of petrol from the near-comatose attendant. Evangeline, meanwhile, browsed aimlessly and warmed her hands by a rusty space heater. Outside, a blizzard was sweeping over the parking lot, white specks swarming furiously against the glass of the window.

Sirius joined her after he had made his purchase, bumping his shoulder against her own. "Blimey," he said, watching the impending whiteout. "Maybe we _are _in Antarctica."

"Yeah," Evangeline squinted into the distance, "Not even joking, I think there may be an actual iceberg over there."

When they headed back out, it was almost a struggle to get the door open against the exponentially growing snow drifts. The bike was fully smothered; it took a joint dig of archaeological proportions to free it from the white monstrosity that had consumed everything within a visible radius.

"Unbelievable," Evangeline panted, dusting her mittens together to remove the clinging snow. "Can we even ride through this?"

Sirius, who was tipping the petrol into the motorcycle's fuel tank, looked up. Snowflakes caught onto his cheeks and eyelashes. "We'll have to try, won't we? We're nearly there, anyway, according to the nav spell."

His words sent a shiver through Evangeline that had very little to do with the raging snowstorm. "Right, yeah. Do you reckon we should run through some sort of plan?"

"Probably."

"Any ideas?"

"Not particularly. You?"

"I've honestly got nothing."

Sirius snorted. "Oi, it's a good thing we're not really aurors."

"Bloody hell. Don't even joke about that."

Sirius stood up, screwing the lid back onto the container and then setting it in the snow. "It's how we've always done things though, innit?" he said. "Without thinking, I mean."

"Thinking is for twats," Evangeline agreed.

The corners of Sirius' mouth lifted. His skin was glowing almost impossibly, like there was a light inside of him that never turned off. "I'm glad I'm doing this with you."

For a second, as the snow swirled around, they smiled at one another, and it was a moment of such innocence and truth that everything else was briefly forgotten.

"I—Me, too."

And that was the thing about them, wasn't it? The way that the chances of the stars aligning were slim at best. The way that they carried on despite this, fighting, blindly blazing the trail, because anything was better than sitting around and waiting for fate to get its shit together. The only way forward was to keep moving. Sirius had always understood that in a way that no one else did.

Right now, with the light glinting in his steel grey eyes, he looked completely breathtaking. Evangeline wanted to say something else, but she was not given the chance. A muffled exclamation came from somewhere on Sirius' person.

_"Padfoot!"_

Sirius and Evangeline both jumped.

_"Pick up, mate. Don't be a dick." _It was unmistakeably James' voice. "_Oi, hurry. You'd better not be dead."_

There was a momentary gap of silence as Sirius reached into his pack, and then: "_Wait, I hope you're alright. Love you, mate."_

Sirius gave a loud snort at that.

_"That was in case you're dead. If not then pick up, git-face. Don't fuck about."_

At long last, Sirius managed to extract the mirror from his rucksack. "I always forget how much you swear when you're worried about me."

James heaved an obvious sigh of relief. "Oh, shove off." Snow was collecting very rapidly on the surface of the glass. "I can barely see you. Where are you, the bloody North Pole?"

Sirius blew on the mirror, unleashing a puff of ice crystals into the air. "Something like that. What's up?"

On the other side of the looking glass, there was a snorting sound. "_What's up_." Remus' voice was bland and mocking. "Just listen to him, like he's taking a casual walk in the park..."

"Hi Moony. Alright?" Sirius said cheerily.

The boy's lightly freckled face appeared in the frame. "You are a git."

"I know."

"Wormtail also sends his disapproval."

"Cheers, Pete."

James took over again, oranges and yellows flickering upon the lenses of his glasses as though he was surrounded by candles. "Now that's out of the way," he said, "you should know that we're coming after you.

Sirius' eyes snapped up to meet Evangeline's. "What? No, you're not."

"I've already told Eddie."

Sirius sighed. "'Course you have. Where is he, then?"

"He's getting dressed. I also told him I'd torture everything out of you, so you'd better start talking."

Sirius was silent for a moment, biting his lip.

"Padfoot," James dropped whatever trace of lightheartedness had been present in their banter; he sounded almost angry, "this is Dad we're talking about, yeah? Would you just tell me what the hell is going on?"

Sirius sobered at that. "You're right. I'm sorry." Appropriately chagrined, he shared the conversation they had overheard in the basement, the ministry's apparent reluctance to intervene, their approximate whereabouts—everything.

"Wait," James sounded like he had stopped breathing. "Back up. Taken hostage, so..."

"So it sounds like they're actually alright."

James let out a harsh, sardonic gust of breath. "Fucking Ministry."

"Wankers," Sirius agreed. "Except for your dad, obviously. And yours," he added, looking over at Eva again.

"They're actually just going to let this go. I can't believe it." Even in the dim light, through the snow, and behind the glass of the mirror, James' agitation was blindingly clear. He wrinkled his brow. "And why Avebury, I wonder?"

"No idea," Sirius said. "But that's where we're headed."

James shook his head, lips pinched together and eyes full of bitter exasperation. "I can't actually believe you left without me. You're paying for that one when this is all over."

"Failure of judgement," Sirius said solemnly. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, well there's no way I'm not joining you now. Stay in touch, would you? I'll let you know what's happening on our end."

"Alright."

"And please, I can't emphasize this enough: do not do anything stupid. Please. At least not until I get there."

Sirius adopted a solemn expression. "My actions will be logical and intelligent. Also rational."

"...That was the actual least convincing thing I have ever heard you say," James said despondently. "Just... stay safe. Good luck."

"Thanks, mate, and same. See you on the other side."

* * *

The first thing that Edward Bones did upon his arrival in the kitchen was to shove a biscuit into his mouth.

"Next best thing to coffee," he said as he swallowed. "Som'n tells me I should be properly energized to hear this. Sorry, hi, I'm Eddie, by the way." He raised a hand in greeting toward the five of them.

Remus, Peter, Isabelle and Lily introduced themselves in quick succession, and Bones squinted hopelessly. "I've forgotten already. Sorry, I'm terrible with names. But lovely to meet you all." He dusted his hands off and turned around to face James, sucking in a breath as though to steel himself. "Right, so, give it to me. What exactly are we dealing with here?

James filled him in, and to his credit, Eddie barely looked phased. "So let me get this straight," he deadpanned, putting a hand to his forehead. "The Death Eaters have got hostages at Avebury, the Ministry's turning a blind eye, and Sirius fucking Black has just gone running off to save the day on a flying motorbike."

"Also Evangeline fucking Hansen," Peter said helpfully.

Bones reached for another biscuit. "Oh, for god's sake."

"Please tell me you have some idea of how to deal with this," James beseeched.

Eddie was silent for a second. "I do..." he said slowly. "But I'm not sure it's the best option. I'm also not sure I'm awake enough to be thinking this through properly."

Peter offered him another biscuit.

"Mate, we'll take anything at this point," James said grimly. "Literally. Anything."

"Right. Well, it involves getting out of here. We probably shouldn't all go, either. I could wind up in a right bit of trouble for this as it is."

In the end, it was James, Lily and Peter who volunteered themselves for the task. Remus, rather stiltedly, had bowed out, and when Lily caught the rounded face of the moon through the window, she figured she knew the reason. To general raised eyebrows, Isabelle excused herself immediately after Remus, squeezing his arm in a manner that was clearly meant to be subtle but went unmissed by all.

"What should we do about your mum?" Remus whispered a short while later, as the others shrugged on their coats and cloaks by the dim candlelight of the basement.

James looked pained, but Eddie cut in before he could reply. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that, yeah?" he said. "I'm optimistic. Reckon we can get this sorted out before sunrise."

"Are you sure?" Remus asked dubiously.

"Believe me, the bunch we're going to see are pretty qualified to deal with stuff like this."

"Rightio then." Remus nodded. He and James embraced briefly, while Lily and Isabelle exchanged a hug beside them.

"Good luck," Isabelle said, stepping back to fidget with her hands. "Be safe."

"I'll see you soon," Lily said, and then shivered.

"Pete, mate, have you finished over there?" Eddie was craning his neck back to stare at Peter, who was hunched over by the empty fireplace and scribbling on a scrap of parchment by the light of his propped up wand.

"Just about," he replied, not without some measure of irritation. On Bones' orders, he had scribed out a quick letter to Dumbledore, only to have the mickey taken out of him on a grand scale when it became apparent he had spelled the headmaster's name _Dumbledoor_ in his state of exhaustion. The others had laughed themselves hoarse, heads practically bursting off in their attempts to keep quiet, and still would not let him hear the end of it.

Peter dotted the end of the rewritten letter and delivered it to Eddie. "There, all fixed."

"Brilliant, thanks," Bones said.

James looked as though he was trying very hard to restrain himself, but in the end he couldn't keep it in. "Better get that to old Dumblefloor straight away," he said.

"Oh," Remus snapped his head around, feigning casual interest. "Is that the letter for Dumblechair?"

He and James burst into snickering laughter as Peter exhaled loudly.

"Sorry Pete." Wiping his eyes, Remus straightened up. "That was the last one. I'll stop, I promise."

"No, no," Peter said acidly. "Keep 'em coming. Nothing better than being ruthlessly betrayed by your best mates."

Eddie, meanwhile, opened the wooden door of the basement passage with a click that reverberated around the cellar. "We'd best be off," he said. "You lot all set?"

"Yes, sir," James said.

"Let's chivvy along then." A grin crept onto Eddie's his lips as he motioned them toward the passageway. "Everyone through the Dumble Door!"

Peter sighed. "I hate you all."

* * *

"There it is."

Sirius' voice soared over the growl of the engine, but his statement was wholly redundant; Evangeline was already staring at the glowing outline of Avebury on the horizon. From above, the village was a circular henge in the ground, eerily uniform, surrounded by stones that rose like sentries from the white earth. Lights dotted criss-crossing roads and paths, adding to the peculiar geometric perfection, and there was an almost cerulean glow that seemed to emanate from the very heart of the monolithic masterpiece.

It was like moths to a flame, the way the stone relics called out to them, shining beacons under the snowy night sky. The view was so enthralling, in fact, that neither of them noticed the slight decline in their altitude until the bike gave a sudden lurch.

They both cried out, Evangeline's arms vice-gripping around Sirius' waist. "What's happening?" she shrieked.

The bike dropped again, this time even sharper, and the buffer of charmed heat was replaced with the sharp slap of icy wind against their faces. "I don't know," Sirius said, panicked. There was a flicker, and the disillusionment lifted, exposing them to moon's probing gaze. The motorcycle was picking up downward momentum far too quickly.

"Fuck fuck fuck," Sirius said.

Evangeline was hysterical. "Do something!"

"Holy shit." Sirius, unfortunately, appeared to be paralyzed. "We're actually going to die."

"No! Fuck you, _do something_!"

"I don't know what's fucking wrong!"

"SIRIUS!" Evangeline was holding onto him so tight it was a miracle he had not been asphyxiated.

Somehow, on a dying wave of flight, Sirius managed to haul the bike into a one-eighty, and as they gurgled in the opposite direction, the descent began to slow. It wasn't enough. They were still closing in on the ground.

"Oh my god," Evangeline said faintly.

"Come on," Sirius roared, pulling upward with all his might, as though this might somehow compel the bike to stop catapulting to its demise. For whatever reason, the upward motion was growing, pulling on the fall like molasses, like a stretched bungee cord on the verge of changing direction. "Yes," Sirius breathed. "Yes... come on..."

They hit.

The final upward effort was enough to cushion the impact, but it was simply too little, too late. Evangeline and Sirius were thrown from the seat as the motorbike slammed into a snow drift, and they tumbled through the air like rag dolls.

Eva sunk into what felt like several metres of snow, the ice scratching against her cheeks and chin, and lay there for a second in shock. When she rolled over, she saw the ceiling of the starry sky through her human-shaped crater. "Sirius," she croaked. Then, louder: "Sirius!"

"M'alright," came the muffled response from nearby. It sounded as though he, too, was buried in the snow.

Evangeline sat up, wincing as ice crumbled down upon her from the walls of her little cavern, and struggled to her feet. A few metres away, there was a deep skid mark and a depression where Sirius must have been. "We're not dead," she said faintly. The stars in the sky had never looked so bright and beautiful.

Sirius' head and shoulders popped out of the snow. He was grinning like a maniac. "We're not dead," he confirmed.

"We're aliiiiiiiive!" Eva yelled, doing a twirl. On some wave of adrenaline and shaky breaths, she began running and tripping through the deep white sludge.

Sirius had barely risen to his feet when Evangeline reached him, and she grabbed his hands with such gusto that he almost went down again, stumbling back a few paces as her arms wrapped around him and pulled him into an odd sort of pas de deux. They galloped over the snowy terrain, stumbling, bumping into each other, spinning wildly in a demented dance. Finally, Evangeline's leg sunk knee-deep into a snow drift and they fell over into a heap.

They both laughed hysterically until tears came. Evangeline was reclined against the snow, arms spread eagled, Sirius a tangled mess on top of her. He stared down, snowflakes reflecting in the grey haze of his irises, and then untucked his arms to pull her flat against him, squeezing tightly on her back. "Fucking hell," he breathed, still laughing feebly.

Eva rested her chin on his shoulder, and their hearts beat a quickstep against one another. "Er, sorry for the 'fuck you'," she said against the side of his head. "Apparently imminent death brings out the worst in me."

"And apparently it turns me into a snivelly, useless git," Sirius laughed, head slumping forward a bit. He could feel Evangeline's chuckles against his chest.

They lay there for a few minutes, holding one another lazily, breaths slowing and synchronizing, until the chill of the snow settled into their bodies.

"I can't feel my bum," Evangeline said after some time.

Sirius' hands wandered down. "It's definitely still there."

"Creep." Eva, laughing, elbowed him off of her and rolled up into a seated position.

Once they were comfortably dried and heating-charmed, the only logical way to proceed seemed to be to begin the excavation process on the bike, something that took all of two seconds with a covert levitation charm.

"Shit," Sirius said, staring down at the horrifically punctured front tire. He used his wrist to rev the ignition several times, to no avail; his efforts were rewarded with nothing but dead silence. He gave up and took a step back, looking torn. "We'll have to leave it for now."

Evangeline pursed her lips and moved them to the side. "Will it be alright here?"

"Should be," Sirius said, though he didn't sound entirely convinced. "C'mon, help me bury it."

And so, with the help of their wands, they heaped the snow back on top of the bike until it more or less blended into the surrounding landscape. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do.

"At least we're not too far," Evangeline said a few minutes later, as they began their trek over the snowy, barren hills toward the village.

"Yeah," Sirius replied, but before he could continue, everything suddenly went ice cold. Wind slivered past their exposed cheeks, snow icy and hard against their noses.

"_Why_ does that keep happening?" Evangeline demanded, wrapping her arms around herself. "Are my heating charms actually thatuseless?"

"Every time we get closer to the village..." Sirius trailed off, making a face. He grabbed his wand and attempted to redo the spell. Nothing happened. It wasn't like the odd, sparking blockages of Celestial Lake, but rather a simple dead, cold, nothing.

They both realized at the exact same time. "Avebury," Sirius said.

"_No form of magical transportation will get you there_," Evangeline parroted.

Sirius drew in a breath. "The bike."

"The fall..."

"No magic."

"Bloody hell."

Their gazes moved forward to the horizon, where the ominous giants of stone rose up against a backdrop of lights and shadows. It the strangest thing, like radio silence mixed with a chorus of ancient voices buzzing through the very earth upon which they stood.

Things were oddly solemn as they marched onward, silent and suddenly very much brought back to the reality of what they were doing. The night was still around them, the Christmas lights of the village twinkling specs of gold and green and red in the distance.

It took a good ten minutes to reach the parish gates, and by that point, both Eva and Sirius were shivering like mad.

"I don't want to alarm you," Evangeline finally said, teeth clacking together, "but I might be dying of hypothermia."

"Can't talk," Sirius chattered out, a gust of blue-grey spiraling with his breath. "Face frozen."

"How... on _earth... _do muggles survive the winter?"

"Must find... shelter."

"'S like two in the morning," Eva bewailed. "Nothing'll be open."

"There." Sirius nodded ahead, gesturing to the yellow glow of a smallish church. A simple cross marked the spired roof, candles flickering invitingly behind the stained glass windows.

Evangeline tried to raise her frigid eyebrows, with little success. "You sure?"

"Churches'r always open."

And so they sought reprieve in the stone building, and it was possibly the most glorious feeling Evangeline had ever experienced. The pew-lined interior was empty and half-darkened, and the air was full of candles and warmth and the smell of pine.

"Mmmhhh," Eva moaned in relief. Like an insect buzzing blindly towards light, she heading straight for the front plinth, where candles littered two wooden tables and a Christmas tree glowed. She stuck her hands out above the gently burning wicks, reveling in the pleasant heat.

Sirius nudged her aside with his shoulder, reaching out for some space for his own hands. Eva nudged back, and they engaged in a small, silent mockery of a shoulder-bump war for a few seconds before finding an arrangement that left them both with adequate room to defrost. They were close enough that their flickering shadows looked like a single person on the ground behind them.

Finally, after about five minutes of rotisserie style reheating by the candles, Evangeline decided she was no longer in danger of imminent death and moved to her left to admire the Christmas tree.

"Sirius," she said, possessed by some odd curiosity as she watched the reflection of the candlelight in a red globe ornament.

He turned, hands still over the scintillating display. "Yeah?"

"What actually happened, all those years ago?"

It was a loaded question—one she had been wanting to ask for almost three years—and silence filled the darkened church in its wake. "What do you mean?" Sirius asked haltingly.

"Just, like, why did you ditch me? What actually went wrong? Was it something that you'd been planning, or... was it just because of that one day?"

His face was half shadow, half golden glow. It took him a long time to find the words. "I liked you too much," he admitted quietly. "And I overreacted like a twat when you didn't like me back."

"That's it?"

Sirius nodded, a bitter look in his eyes. "That's it."

"But... it wasn't even that," Evangeline said, shaking her head at him. "You caught me by surprise, that day. I didn't realize it, but... yeah. Afterwards, I was kicking myself a bit. Because I kind of did want to kiss you back."

Sirius looked as though the world had stopped turning on its axis. "No, that's... impossible."

She rolled her eyes up at him. "Why would I lie, dufus?"

"Blimey," Sirius breathed after a very long pause.

"I thought you genuinely hated me," Eva justified. "I thought you'd fallen in so far with the Marauders and all that and you just wanted me gone. And I decided to hate you, too, because it was easier than reminding myself of our friendship all the time."

Sirius may have been having some sort of minor heart attack. "But then... _how _did it all get so out of hand?"

Evangeline dropped her head. "We've been actual idiots."

"Supreme dolts."

"A royal flush of stupidity."

Sirius appeared to be on the verge of either laughing or crying. "Well, at least we can't be accused of half-arsing things."

"And I did learn some pretty banging insults over the years."

"Excellent point. I also improved my dueling skills by about five hundred percent."

Evangeline, on a whim, reached forward and grabbed a loose strand of tinsel that was trailing from a branch of the Christmas tree.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked in bemusement as she moved towards him.

"I'm crowning you," she said, looping the string of golden shimmer around his beanie. "King of the Idiots."

"Well then..." Sirius snatched a scrap of silver garland and tied it round her head. "As Idiot King, I hereby declare you my Queen."

"Thank you," Eva said solemnly. "I accept this position with pride and stupidity."

Sirius nodded, waving to invisible subjects, and called: "Bow down, all ye morons!"

Evangeline caught his hand, pulling it back down without letting go. "You _are_ an idiot."

"I know." Sirius grinned as he leaned down, his other hand moving to the small of her back, and pressed a kiss to her mouth. It was all cold lips and fighting against smiles, and their crowns brushed against one another in a staticky crunch of tinsel. Evangeline was blown away by how much she craved the feeling of his body against hers.

And then, mid-kiss, her eyes slid partway open as though by instinct. There was something blue and hazy pulsing beyond the stained glass window.

"Sirius," she whispered, pulling away and gaping at the snowy ground on the other side of the glass. "What is that?"

He turned his head, still pressed against her, and his neck tensed with a frown. "I dunno," he said, shifting to look at it properly. "But I feel a strange and overwhelming urge to follow it."

"Same," Evangeline replied, glad she wasn't the only experiencing this weird magnetism.

They all but raced out of the little church, desperate to investigate the apparition. It was a sphere of blue light, smoky and fluid in the winter air, and it drifted gently on the wind, about a foot above the snow.

"I think it's a will-o-the-wisp," Evangeline said in a hushed tone, face lit by the blue glow.

"I think you're right."

As their gazes trailed back to the glow, it moved forward a little. It wasn't even spoken, their decision to follow it; they just took off at a brisk walk as it drifted ahead. The wisp wandered down the Christmassy street, through an allée of willows, past a snowy pasture, and found them facing a dense glen of twisted trees on the village outskirts. The gigantic stone monoliths stared down upon them, blocking out the moon.

"Wait." Finally blinking away the strange hypnosis, Evangeline grabbed Sirius' sleeve. "What are we doing? What does this have to do with anything?"

"I'm not sure," Sirius murmured, his eyes fixed on the wisp. "But... don't you feel like it's somehow relevant?"

She did. And it was very disconcerting. "Yeah," she said. "But what if this is... I dunno, some sort of trap?"

Sirius squinted his eyes at the ball of light, which had paused for a second on the forest's edge. "Doesn't feel like one, does it? I just feel... like, safe."

The pulse of the orb _was _calming, and Evangeline felt her resolve crumble as the soft light filtered through he eyes. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, good point."

And so without further hesitation, they ducked between the twisted branches and followed the light into the woods.

* * *

**A/N: **I know there has been a distinct lack of writing from me in the past few months. Personal stuff + the Thesis of Doom have managed to thoroughly kill all of my creativity. I've had the majority of this written for months and months though, so I figured I might as well just get the rest together and get it posted. Things are looking up. I predict a triumphant return to fiction (and Starstruck, for those of you who are readers) over the holiday season.

Also thanks to all of the lovely folks who still leave me reviews. I am so grateful for every single one!

Big hugs,

Liz


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